


For All Of My Life

by Aly_Winchester



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Esme, Angst, Blood, Death, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Language, Parental Relationships, Pregnancy, Tension, Vampires, Violence, friendships, relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-20 19:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10669074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aly_Winchester/pseuds/Aly_Winchester
Summary: Many years ago, just before the American Revolution, Carlisle Cullen met a girl named Annabelle Steele, a girl who was most obviously his mate, and not so obviously not completely human, yet not a vampire. Carlisle had never met someone like her before, but to his surprise she knew what he was, and even more importantly, she wasn't afraid of him. But because of her family's hatred for the vampires, she had to run with him and keep herself hidden in fear that she and her mate could be killed. But that was just the start of their adventures, not knowing at the time that their family awaits them in the future, and the biggest threat of all will threaten to tear their whole world apart.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all, and welcome to my new Carlisle/OC story! I hope you all enjoy this one as well as my other one, Second Chance at Forever. I really appreciate the response for that one, it's very humbling, and since I have that one almost completed, I decided to start working on this one. I hope you all enjoy! Note: the rating is subject to change depending on where the story leads me. But again, I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading, and I would love to hear your reviews, thoughts, comments, and questions on this story!

**-Jamestown Village, Virginia Colony 1774-  
** **-Annabelle-**

The market wasn't as busy as Annabelle Steele expected, so her feet rushed her through without incident. Those around her weren't surprised to see someone hurrying through the square as that happened many times in days like these. With the threat of the British over their heads and quiet whispers of the Colonies revolting, not many people stayed outside to enjoy themselves, even in times when it was hot and sunny out. They all feared the invasion, wondering if it would happen any day when the crown decided that the Colonies weren't worth as much effort as they were putting forth. But that didn't mean the colonists would give up without a fight. They had meetings in secret basement rooms with plans and maps put forth, drawing up names of those wishing to volunteer on the off-chance it did come down to a fight.

Annabelle was never really one to worry, though, she knew that nothing the British army, or even the Continental army for that matter. Not often did she think about her secret, but at age twenty-one, she knew she should be. Three years ago her parents told her of who and what she really was, and it was never something she wanted. _I do not wish to be a freak,_ she thought as she, once again, ran from her family home. It was the secret that brought her out in such tense times, another day of arguing with her father only for him to end up yelling, and for her to run off crying. As much as her mother tried to be the mediator, it never quite worked out.

And Annabelle was tired of it. She was tired of fighting with her father, she was tired of being told that she had no choice in accepting her fate, and she was tired of living her life in solitude away from other people just because she was different. Annabelle knew she was good at keeping secrets, she wouldn't tell a soul, but her father forbid her from going to school or joining in on town balls or picnics or anything that would be considered fun. It had been that way ever since she was a child and at that age, she always just assumed he was being overprotective of her, and unable to enjoy some fun. But the truth was almost much worse, because the truth of the matter was, no matter how much she fought it or how many times she ran from it, it was her destiny. It was in her blood and she would have to accept it even if she spent centuries running from it.

Yes, _centuries._ At first when her father told her that he wasn't simply _"good at keeping himself looking young"_ as she had thought, she assumed that meant he had adopted her. While she had never been around an orphanage, she heard of them as there was one a couple towns over. It would explain why he and her mother looked to be approaching thirty, but never quite went over it. It would explain why the other townsfolk knew there was something off about them, and why they moved around so often. Many times people assumed she was either her mother or father's younger sister, but she always wrote it off as good genes. But she was very wrong and on the evening of her eighteenth birthday, after a day of gifts and a small party with her and her parents and even a cake her mother slaved over, Henry Steele told her the truth of what she was. Of course she didn't believe them, and it was the first night she ran away.

Every couple months for the last three years, she ran away, hoping that it would slow down whatever was happening. But her father said it wasn't something that would just hit her and happen over night, it was gradual and she would notice just bare hints of the matter as she hit twenty-one and continued to age. Soon she would look about as old as they did—late twenties at the very oldest—and then she would not age a single day after that. She would never grow old, never die, and she would never get to have the normal, amazing human life that she always wanted.

Because Annabelle wasn't human.

She was an Immortal.

 _"There is no other term for us because we are not creatures. We do not shift like Children of the Moon. We do not carry venom like vampires. We simply exist, half human and half..._ other _."_ Of course the phrases _"Children of the Moon"_ and _"vampire"_ got her started all over again with confusion and fear, but everything had been explained to her. They were an endangered species and very close to extinction, and that's one of two reasons her father kept her inside. The other being that if she got injured playing with other children, she would heal in an instant. _"Nothing can harm you. Not bullets or illness. Nothing but this."_ He held up a knife then, made out of purse silver, something his father, her grandfather Matthew, had given to him on his own eighteen birthday. _"We can only be killed by a silver dagger to the heart. Never let this out of your sight, Annabelle. For if you do, you shall surely parish."_

That knife felt heavy against her thigh as she ran, glad for her long skirts as her feet carried her passed the market and into the woods to find her favorite hiding spot, one her father would never find no matter how many times he searched for her. The woods were a second home to her, a place so quiet and calm and peaceful that she could sit there for hours and never notice that any time had pass until the sun began to sink behind the hills. Deep into the woods there lay a small river running through the foliage and letting out into the bigger James River that was nearby. Along the river—which she nicknamed the Solitude River even though it had no real name—there was a fallen tree thats roots covered a small cave. It was this cave that she hid in, sometime just to lay there and think, other times to read.

Over her shoulder, she carried a satchel and inside was a candle freshly poured the day before, some matches, a quilt her mother made when she was six, and a book that she had read so many times the pages were threatening to fall out. But it's what she needed, to fall into this realm of fiction and fairytales rather than deal with the knowledge that she would never be normal and she would spend the rest of her life hiding.

 _There are creatures that want me dead. I have done nothing to them and they want me dead._ That was something she could never get passed, something she had nightmares about nearly every night. Because as much as she wanted to live, in order to do so, she would always have to find caves and places where none of those creatures could find her.

_Vampires._

That story, her father hadn't told her yet, only that they killed Matthew and also her mother's parents as well. It was them that made them go into hiding, they were the reason that the rest of the Immortals were dead. Having once been as numerous in populace as the humans, it was quite the devastating loss. Annabelle, of course, understood why they needed to stay hidden, but that didn't mean she had to like it. She pictured her life having adventures, not hiding from them.

Wiping away an escaped tear, she finally managed to make her way down the bank and into her little cave. As usual, it was clear and empty of any other life. It was small, not very deep, but it was enough. It had a large rock in it that she always laid her quilt near so she could lean against it as she read, or use it to sleep against if she got tired. She had also stored a canteen of water there along with an old shotgun of her father's—that he had been looking for desperately, but she never revealed that she took it—and a box of covered bread.

Her hands shook as she laid her quilt over the dirt floor and arranged her other belongings around it. The only thing she kept on her person was the dagger, lifting the edges of her skirts to make sure it was still hidden on her thigh sheath, before settling herself on her quilt. The candle was lit, the match pushed into the dirt to make sure it was smothered and didn't light again. The candle was bright, flickering shadows and light around the small cave, and it made her smile a little even as she couldn't bring herself to truly be happy.

Because it also wasn't lost on her she most likely would spend her life alone. Her mother and father got lucky when they found each other. But there weren't many Immortals left out there, her father had said merely a dozen families escaped the wrath of the vampires, and they all scattered. Who knows if they were still alive. And if she fell in love with a human, they would die in just a few short years, age and grow gray while she still looked twenty. Immortals could only be born, they couldn't be created like vampires or Children of the Moon. Her father had never heard of an Immortal and human having a child together, so it was highly unlikely it could happen.

 _So I may as well get used to an eternity of loneliness,_ she thought bitterly. Her parents would be around, but that wasn't the same as having someone to spend her life with, like they got to.

Sighing, she shook her head and forced the thoughts away. She wouldn't allow herself to continue in her own self-pity or think about the way life had royally screwed her over. She was tired of it; three years was enough. It was then she knew that she wouldn't forever be with her parents either, she would go crazy. But she had more to learn and she begrudgingly admitted to herself that she needed their help for that. Her father had told her that the vampires had burned most of the Immortals written history and so she had nothing to go by except for his first-hand accounts. She had them all committed to memory and would be writing them down one day, but for right then, she stopped thinking about it. Stopped thinking of her cursed life, stopped thinking about the loneliness already heavy in her soul, stopped thinking about the running and the hiding she would surely be doing forever. She lost herself in her book, the fairytales doing their job at sweeping her away and creating a life for herself that these princesses and fairies and magical creatures had. If they could find love against all odds, if they could be happy, why couldn't she?

She was so lost, in fact, that she actually was smiling a little bit. Her body grew content and she was happy to lean there against the rock, feeling the warmth from the candle next to her as it flickered light over her precious, private little cave. She was happy to immerse herself in wonderful writings and found joy in the lives that were written upon the slowly yellowing pages. She was _happy_.

At least, until, from outside her hiding spot, she heard a noise.

* * *

**-Carlisle-**

One hundred and one years ago to the day, Carlisle Cullen became a vampire. On the streets of London, he was but a boy under the instructions of his cruel father to hunt down creatures that lurked in the shadows and underbelly of London's darkest streets. It was never something he wanted to do, especially because the hunts his father conducted always led to the deaths of innocent people. That wasn't Carlisle; he couldn't kill anybody. They were simply lonely and hungry, unable to live in a home because the world was cruel and gave them no place in it. They had feelings and thoughts and emotions just like the rest of them. But no matter how hard he tried, Carlisle couldn't talk his father out of his actions, so it was actually a blessing in disguise when his father got too sick to continue and handed the reins over to him. Under his watch, nobody died and everybody was given a fair consideration.

At least, that is until Carlisle found a _real_ vampire nest and he was bitten in his efforts to uncover it. He still remembered what it was like to burn for three days straight while the venom worked its way through his body and changed him into a monster. As much as he tried to forget it, that never left him, and yet he refused to curb to the urges that vampirism gave him. He never once drank from a human let alone killed them, and he never allowed himself to fall victim to the beast. It rattled in its cage, its bars bending now and then as Carlisle worked through the first few years after his transition, but he never fell. It was the victory over the beast, never feeding its true hunger, that Carlisle was most proud of. And he continued working it every day until he could be around blood with the scent barely scratching the surface.

Confident in knowing that he could control himself, he found himself in the Colonies along the coast of Virginia, wishing to find work as a doctor. Of course he had heard the rumors of the British invading and forcing the Colonies under their control by force. But he also heard the Colonies were planning on fighting back. If that were true, he had every intension on fighting for the Colonists, despite the fact that his voice spoke of his British roots. Still, he was working on changing that, allowing himself to dwell outside pubs and listening to the way the Colonists spoke, desperate to make themselves separate from Britain, and working over the words in his mind. If he was going to stay there, it would be better to have the right accent and blend in.

It was nearing sun down, just around five o'clock in the evening. Carlisle wasn't daft enough to spend his days in the city around human gaze; he would still bring attention to himself that the Volturi would surely hear about. So he took himself into the woods, feeling the slightest bit peckish and seeing his eyes were closer to black than topaz now, looking to find a deer or perhaps a couple smaller game to keep the hunger and the beast at bay while he looked around town for work the next day. Luckily he had the credentials to prove his title, thanks to Marcus of the Volturi for help with that one—the only one of the three brothers that was interested in his different lifestyle—so he should have no problem setting up shop where he was needed. He had stopped in Wilmington, Delaware and Richmond, Virginia before arriving in Jamestown. Both Wilmington and Richmond had the doctors they needed, so hopefully he could be of service to the people of Jamestown.

The woods were quiet and just what he needed to think. Truthfully it was sort of odd being around humans again because he spent so long in Italy with the Volturi that he was used to vampire company. But he wasn't less confident because of those thoughts, simply he had to re-teach himself how to be patient and gentle. The last thing he wanted to do was try and help set a broken bone and wind up just ripping the limb off by mistake. That would surely give away his truth and send Aro down on his head. The last thing these colonies needed in a time like this was the threat of the most powerful creatures in the world.

Sighing away his troubling thoughts, he easily took down a couple buck and a rabbit. Normally he would only take the one deer, but seeing as he could possibly be working with human blood soon—his natural, instinctual food source—he wanted to make sure he drank enough to take away the thirst for a couple weeks at the very least. The deer didn't taste the greatest—mountain lions were actually his favorite—but they would suffice for what he needed. Once he was complete and had disposed of the bodies and cleaned himself up in the small river, he started heading back for town.

If he weren't a vampire, he wouldn't have seen it, and it made him stop in his tracks, nearly uprooting a nearby tree with how hard he dug his feet into the ground. As a vampire, he also knew he wasn't seeing things, but there it was, a small dull light flickering from between the roots of an overturned tree. He frowned, blinking a couple times as if he had something in his eyes that needed to be cleared away, but it was still there. For a moment he thought about shrugging and leaving anyway; if anyone was back there, it wasn't any of his business. They could sit there if they wanted to. But something was drawing him in, tugging at his body as if there were a rope physically wrapped around his waist.

 _What does this mean?_ he wondered as, at a human pace, he stepped over broken twigs and leaves to get closer to that flickering light. He had never felt something quite like that before, the sheer inhuman _need_ to be somewhere without having any idea as to why. It made him realize that that's why he came to the Colonies in the first place. There were plenty of towns and villages in Europe that needed a good doctor, and yet he chose to stick himself aboard a crowded ship with humans to get there without any real clue as to why. He told himself he needed to help people, but why the Colonies? Now he knew. He needed to be in these woods, in this village, right at this time. And whoever was there with the flickering light? He needed to know them, and there would be nothing that stopped him.

So deep in his thoughts, he didn't watch his footing and found that he stepped on a branch, snapping it in half. The sound was like a gunshot through the quiet setting and he winced, mentally cursing himself for doing something so stupid. But it's like he was under a spell, even his beast had been quiet at that time. Part of him wondered if he should just leave before whoever it was could come out, but that same feeling that drew him there in the first place kept him there, locking his body in place and not allowing it to move. _I have to see who is there,_ he realized, the confusion nearly making his head spin. But he had to know, there was no choice. He _had_ to.

"...hello?"

_Oh my gosh. It is her._

* * *

**-Annabelle-**

After the first sound drifted through the tangled roots in front of the cave, Annabelle had stayed still and quiet, waiting for something or someone to come charging in at her. Part of her wondered if it was her father and that was the only reason she hadn't moved from her spot. She knew he would be worried, but she would talk to him once she got home. She would rather shove the silver dagger into her own heart rather than allow him to find her hiding spot, or allow him to drag her back home before she was ready. She would show up in time, and her parents knew to give her space, but her father was stubborn and didn't always like to listen to her.

But after the sound of the breaking branch dissipated, she was left with quiet once more and just the foreboding feeling that she should go out there and take a look, all the while fighting her instincts of keeping herself hidden and protected. Since she was certain this cave was unknown, it's not as if anybody would know where to look. And since she didn't want to give it away, she didn't blow out her candle in fear it would draw more attention to her. Yet still, the urge to go out there was intensifying by the moment, enough that it nearly suffocated her and she was choking on her own oxygen. Her breathing came in short gasps, her heart picking up speed loud enough that that was all she could hear, a rush of blood in her ears.

 _At least I cannot die,_ she thought wryly, supposing that was one good thing of being an Immortal that she could deal with. At least for right then.

"...hello?" she called out tentatively, hesitating over her own choked words. Nothing answered her back, not even the sound of a scurrying animal or a bird song. She wasn't sure if that comforted her or not, but her heart just beat faster. Slowly she began to move, the only sound her uneven breathing and her skirts rustling with her movements and the quilt still spread out underneath her. She careful set aside her book, making sure to mark the page, and gingerly moved the flickering candle closer to the doorway to help guide her movements. (Faintly she recalled how her father had told her that Immortals had slightly better sight, hearing, and smell than humans, but she didn't notice anything different. Then again, she was just used to how she worked.)

Swallowing thickly, she moved aside some smaller roots and squeezed through a couple larger ones, knowing the route to take through them to ensure an ease at leaving. Luckily it wasn't too dark outside so the light still flickering from the mouth of the cave was enough to guide her out into the open, peaking through the fallen tree to see if she could spot what made the noise.

Well, it definitely wasn't hard to spot, considering the man was standing right there about ten feet away from where she was shimmying through the tree. Her breath caught as she looked at him, her heart actually skipping a couple beats before it began to beat erratically behind her ribcage. The man there was completely unknown to her. It was a small village and a small state, of which she had lived in it her entire life. While there were thirteen colonies in total, she knew that those in each state stuck together. As such, if she hadn't personally met someone who resided in Virginia, she heard of them. And this God-like creature before her certainly would've caused a stir among folks—especially the women—so she was confident in her assessment that he was new. Honey blond hair, incredible ochre eyes, tall and towering over her small frame, pale skin...

Annabelle gulped again, seeing that like her, his eyes had not left her and a deep, heated blush crept to her cheeks when she realized she had been gawking at this man. Her lips quickly shut and shyly, she stepped out of the foliage and into the stranger's line of sight.

 _He could be a serial killer and you are staring at him like a silly little girl,_ she scolded herself. _What would Mother and Father think about such an audacity?_

Mentally she shook herself and decided it would be best to be polite, even if she was partially intrigued and partially terrified of him. Her head bowed and she reached to lift her skirt ever so slightly, bowing to the man in front of her. She hoped she didn't look incredibly foolish as she had been climbing through the tree roots and sitting on dirt for awhile now and was aghast to think he could view her at such an unfortunate time. However, when she gazed back up at him, catching those topaz eyes once again, she saw he hadn't removed his from her, even as he gave a short bow.

His look made her heart rate spike again and it made her curious to know what he was thinking as he looked upon her. Did he see some beauty in her that she saw in him? _That is just silly_ , she thought immediately, pushing the thought away. There was no way that he could think these things about her because she was simply ordinary and average at best. While he? He was truly a sight to behold, and she knew she could spend the rest of her Immortal years simply gazing upon him.

However, that would be incredibly rude, especially since he clearly wasn't an immortal—she was sure her father would've heard about another Immortal in the village and informed her; Immortals could sense each other, and she got nothing of the sort—and she didn't want to waste anymore of his life by silly little fantasies that she concocted in her head just because hers was in her story books and not there in reality.

And yet she found herself incredibly sad that she couldn't do just that. She wanted to, more intensely than she ever felt in her life. It was a feeling, like a moth to a flame, and she couldn't explain it. But the thought of never seeing him again made her want to weep...and yet, she didn't even know his name. And she had to, she decided. She had to know everything about him. His name, what he liked and didn't like. What he did for a living. What his dreams and aspirations were. Where he wanted to be when he was old and gray.

Her run-away thoughts in a mere few seconds after meeting him had her blush deepening, and her gaze moved itself to the ground at his feet, unable to keep his gaze as she decided that it was killing her. She would have to let him go, and it made her feel like she was dying. Literally, the air leaving her lungs, her heart stopping, her entire body on fire and icy at the same time. _Yes, this is definitely what death would feel like,_ she decided.

"My apologies," she finally murmured, her voice stuck in her throat so it was more hoarse than she wished it to be. Clearing it lightly, trying to be subtle, she shifted her weight to another foot. "I interrupted you, sir. That was not my intention."

"Oh, no." _Oh, his voice is beautiful,_ she decided. It was like church bells, the most beautiful sound in the world. "The apology is mine. I had no idea there was somebody else in these woods. Please, miss, pardon the intrusion."

* * *

**-Carlisle-**

_Oh, please look at me again. Grant me that one honor._

The moment the girl stepped out, Carlisle knew he was lost. Raven black hair accompanied with bright cerulean blue eyes, skin the color of freshly fallen snow, cute little pink lips, and a short yet shapely body... _A goddess_ , was his first thought as she had stepped out from the tree roots. While he had never experienced the call of a mate before—clearly—he had heard of it from Marcus while in Italy. He had been told there was nothing like it in the world, no feeling that could compare. The need to want to be everything for one person, do anything and everything to keep them safe and happy. It was a draw like no other, and there would never been another feeling in the world in all of eternity that would compare to the mating call. He hadn't understood it until the very moment this incredible creature appeared before him like an enchantress. For a moment he thought he was simply dreaming, but he realized that between the sound of her racing heart and the fact that he physically couldn't sleep—and even if he could, there was no way his mind could conjure up a woman like her—that she was real, and she was standing before him, alive and breathing and his.

His mate.

His _._

_MINE._

The beast was very much awake inside him as he watched her for the few moments that she seemed to be fighting with something inside herself. Clearly she wasn't a vampire, her eyes were neither red nor topaz. And yet...she smelled different. Not like a human, something... _peculiar._ There was a hidden scent of fresh lilies along with lavender and cinnamon, and yet it didn't seem right. Not that she was wrong, of course. Not to him. _Never_ to him. To Carlisle, she was the most perfect creature in existence. But that didn't explain how she still held this scent that he couldn't place. He had never smelled it before, and it worried him ever so slightly. Still, he pushed it away as he gazed on her, settling with the knowledge that this might be the only chance. He couldn't possibly damn her to his cursed life. He would have to let her go, and the thought staggered him, making him want to weep as this feeling of dread and fire and ice crept over his body.

But nothing on the outside showed this, his gaze level and his body immobile as he watched her study him, her adorable blush deepening, before she looked down to his feet as if embarrassed. It was then the thought of begging her to gaze upon him once more crossed his mind, along with the thoughts of her speaking once more in that beautiful lilt, one that was fully formed around the Colonial accent, glad that he could hear it in a voice much more beautiful than the dirty, rough banter at the local pub.

"No intrusion," she finally said, her eyes still cast down and he resisted the urge—just barely, the beast roaring and very nearly breaking through the bars in effort to reach her, but Carlisle was an expert jailer and kept the beast where it was—to go over and lift her eyes to his as he begged her to never look away from him. "I...I have a spot." She frowned as if realizing something unfortunate, but she kept speaking, much to Carlisle's delight. "Behind the tree is a small cave. I found it when I was young. I go there to—" She paused, seemingly looking for the right words. "—to read. I bring a candle and a book and I read." She shook her head, her beautiful raven locks floating around her delicate shoulders. "But you did me a favor, sir. I must get back home. Father will not be pleased I have been out so late."

"Carlisle," he blurted before he realized it, inwardly wincing, and yet rejoicing a moment later as her surprised glance lifted to his once again and he was thanking the God he had fought with faith over for the past hundred years that she gifted him as such. However, if he could blush, he would be because that's not what he meant to say. "I am sorry, miss, I did not mean..." He shook his head. "Please, call me Carlisle. That is my name. Carlisle Cullen." He smiled gently at the lovely girl. "I would be happy to escort you home if you wish, miss." She looked shocked, puzzled, and delighted all at the same time. It was the last emotion that the vampire focused on, feeling thrilled that he could cause such a reaction in her. "But, please... If you would, what is your name?"

She looked surprised for a moment, before that ever adorable blush darkened yet again. "Annabelle. Annabelle Steele." She smiled, she actually smiled and he quickly cached it away, wanting to spend the rest of his eternity viewing the snapshot of her smile on her lovely face, complete with those bright beautiful eyes, pink lips, and adorable blush. And of course, the name that fit her so perfectly, he knew that the angels themselves had to create it. Of course, they had to create her as well, as lovely as she was. There was no way she was possibly an earthly creature. She was far too splendid and Carlisle once again, if only for those briefest moment, believed in God once again as he knew that He brought her to him.

And yet she would be taken away in just the few short moments it took to get her home. Carlisle believed, and yet he also believed Him to be cruel. Why else would He give him such a goddess and rip her away from him so soon?

 _It is not fair,_ he thought sadly. And yet, life never was. After all, he was damned to become a vampire. However, if he hadn't been, he never would've met Annabelle Steele. None of it made sense, and he stopped trying to make it that way.

"It is a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Steele." He took a couple steps closer to her, knowing he probably should've been a little bit slower, but he was eager to be closer to her after spending a hundred years thinking he would never find her. Once in front of her, he gently lifted his hand, which she obliged and offered hers. Her own hand was warm and comforting and his eyes shot to hers as sparks—ever cliche and present—started at his palm, tingling through his fingers and then down his arm and through the rest of his body, waking him up in a way he never had been before. Ever the gentleman, he raised her touch and gently pressed a kiss to the top of her small, delicate hand. Carlisle smiled in delight as she gave the smallest of giggles, something he would bend over backwards to hear again if he could.

"You as well, Mr. Cullen." She gave another small curtsy and he raised an eyebrow at her, making her grin. "I apologize... You as well, Carlisle," she corrected. And boy, if her voice saying his name wasn't the most beautiful thing in existence. He never particularly cared one way or another for his name until just then, but she made it sound like a gift from Heaven above. "And to answer your question... I would be honored if you escorted me home." She paused. "I just have to go and fetch my belongings, if that is okay?"

"Of course," he said immediately, taking a small step back, though his very being protested very loudly. "I shall be here."

* * *

**-Annabelle-**

The girl resisted a very girlish squeal as she gave him another small curtsy and turned to gingerly—and yet as quickly as she could without being too obvious—ducked back into the roots to get to her cave and grab her belongings. The candle was taken and moved closer to the rock so she could use it to help her guide her book back into her bag, and then her quilt which she gave a good shake of to get most of the dirt off. After that was in there, the box of matches was placed inside, and finally the candle blown out so the cave was cast into mostly darkness. Luckily there was still a sliver of daylight outside so she was able to carefully find her way back to the mouth and through the tree to find the man waiting for her.

For _her_.

What fairytale land did she fall into to meet this man? Surely she was dreaming one of her stories, and he was the dashing Prince Charming come to take her away from this life. She knew there was no actual taking her away from it, but that didn't stop her from wishing it. It was only when, in her haste to exit the tree and get back to Carlisle's— _What a wonderful and beautiful name,_ she thought—side, that she accidentally got her skirt caught in one of the smaller roots at the bottom, causing her to stumble and awkwardly tumble slightly into the roots at her side. A wince shook her frame as she gently extracted herself, glad that he couldn't have seen that, but the way she tumbled with her skin scratching against the roots lightly and the slight pain that followed, told her that she was awake. This wasn't a dream, and this man was real.

It made her even more breathless to be around him, and so she carefully worked through faster, before breaking through the foliage again. True to his words, Carlisle still stood there in the spot she left him, and she gave him a grateful smile when he held out a hand in an offer to take the bag that she had dangling at her side. She handed it over, glad she only had the one book that time and not anymore like usual, otherwise she would've declined in an effort not to put too much weight on him.

"Thank you," she said softly, reaching up to push back at her hair that had tangled around her face during her little tumbling experience, and missing the way his eyes followed every single move that she made. "I shall show you the way. It is not that far from the village market." Carlisle nodded and together they began their trek into town. It was silent for a couple moments, Annabelle's eyes lifting to the sky as, at least, the sun dipped behind the horizon and cast the land in light shades of pink, purple, and blue. Annabelle smiled, wishing to pause for a moment and bask in this beauty, but she didn't wish to slow him down. "This is my favorite time of the day. I love twilight. It is so beautiful. The colors of the sky... It makes me wish I was a painter so I could capture it."

"Very beautiful indeed," Carlisle said and Annabelle glanced at him, realizing he was looking at her instead with a small, knowing smile on his face. The blush that had started to dissipate was back with full force, accompanying Annabelle biting her lip and glancing down at the ground just in time to step over a large, fallen log. She didn't know what to say. What could she say? Never had she been complimented like that before. Other than her father, she had not been around many men, and she knew that was all his doing. Whether protection because of her Immortal status, or protection because of simply being the father of a daughter, she had no clue. But it left her without some experiences she wished she had, other than reading about them in her books.

"I believe the sky is that way, Carlisle," she said softly, pointing up above their heads, a gentle way of denying his claim.

"I know," he said simply, and yet didn't take his eyes off her. She bit her lip again, reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear, and they fell into an easy silence.

The village came up quickly, way too quickly for her taste, but she knew she couldn't deny the inevitable for too long. She would never have a future with this man. While she was destined for an eternity of solitude, he was graced with the ability to live and grow old as he should. It was why she vowed not to seek him out, even if he were to stay in town. She was sure she would hear about it soon anyway; there was no way his presence or his beauty was going to go unnoticed. The feeling of death crept up on her again and she tried her hardest to focus on breathing, even as chills shook her small frame and threatened to toss her to the ground if she wasn't so keen on pretending like nothing was happening.

What _was_ happening, anyway? She didn't understand it. Why such a draw, such a _feeling_ to a man she just met? True, he was beautiful, but that didn't mean anything in the long run. She had no idea who he really was, and yet she was drawn to him. She wanted to be with him, in every way a man and a woman could. It was a drowning feeling, like a lifeline that her entire being was desperately trying to grab onto to stay afloat, and yet she knew as soon as she bid him ado at the door, she would sink under and she wouldn't be coming back up, not anytime soon, possibly not ever again.

Could she live like that? Could she really face eternity knowing that she let something like this float out of her grasp? _I have no choice,_ she thought sadly as they turned down Mulberry Street, the one she lived on. Her father's house was at the end, right on the corner of Park Street. _It's too soon! It's too soon!_ her soul screamed, and yet she ignored it as she passed first the Carters, then the Bakers, and finally her neighbors, the Smiths. The house was mostly dark other than a small flicker of light in the downstairs kitchen window, telling her that her mother was probably up preparing some pastries for the morning.

"Thank you, Carlisle," she said quietly and finally turned to look up at him. While she knew she shouldn't, that could be dangerous as she never wanted to stop looking, she knew she couldn't just walk away without one more glimpse. To her shock, his face was twisted a bit as if in deep pain, in _agony_ , and yet it cleared in the split second he noticed that she was watching him. _I just imagined it,_ she thought, as she watched him give her a small nod and a smile.

"It was my pleasure, Annabelle." _Say my name again,_ she wanted to beg. She wanted to commit the sound to memory, how it sounded rolling off his tongue. And yet she bit her own to keep from saying those words. "And it was a pleasure meeting you."

"You as well, Carlisle." She smiled once more, allowing the blush to appear as he gifted her with another kiss to her hand, before giving her her bag and taking a step back. _Too far away_ , she thought, her whole being trembling and clawing at her to close the distance in, to take him in her arms and never let him go. But she didn't. She _couldn't_. She gave him a small curtsy. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He didn't move, and she knew that meant she had to, and yet she couldn't. For one more moment, her greedy eyes feasted upon him, hungry for more glances, for more kisses to her hand, for more small touches. But she had to turn, turn around and walk inside and pretend to her mother and father as if this never happened. Perhaps, if she did that long enough, she could fool herself into thinking that it didn't as well.

Heart stopping, breath caught, she turned on her heel and climbed the few steps into her home. _He's home_ , she thought, feeling her body grow more and more cold, more closer to death than she had before. When she saw him, she felt alive, she realized. It was like she was truly alive for the first time in her life and she didn't know what to make of that. But it was him, it was all him. Carlisle Cullen made her feel alive. But now she had to let him go, she had to live, and yet she wouldn't be alive. It hurt, it made her weak, and she fell against the door once she was inside.

"Anna?" her mother called. Of course she heard Annabelle come in, the girl could only hope she didn't hear the exchange outside, otherwise Gwendolyn Steele was sure to tell Annabelle's father of it. But she didn't seem to be too cross as she stepped out of the kitchen, which meant that she hadn't heard them. Yet, she did point the spoon she was holding at her daughter, wagging it lightly. "Your father has been out looking for you. He was very cross when he went to bed."

Annabelle looked at her feet. "I know. I am sorry, Mother."

Gwendolyn sighed. "I know, dear. But you must not get him so worked up. He only does what he thinks is best for you."

Annabelle resisted the urge to roll her eyes, far too tired and drained to say much else. "I know," she murmured. Finally she pushed herself off the door, her body shaking as she closed the distance and hugged Gwendolyn. "I am very tired. Goodnight, Mother."

"Goodnight, Anna." She paused. "Promise me you will speak to your father in the morning."

Annabelle sighed. "I shall." She nodded and gently moved passed her mother, hearing her tut as Annabelle climbed the stairs to her bedroom, which faced the street. She quickly got ready for bed and just before she laid down, she pulled the curtains back a little to peak outside. She didn't know what she was expecting, but the street was empty. She only wished she could see those topaz eyes one last time before she went to sleep.

Shaking away the thoughts and feelings, promising herself that she would forget about him in the morning and chalk up all these ridiculous feelings to her stories, she blew out her lamp and settled under her covers, allowing herself one last night of dreaming of Carlisle Cullen and happiness and forever.


	2. Destiny

**-Annabelle-**

A week went by since her meeting with the mysterious Carlisle Cullen in the woods, and things just seemed to get worse for Annabelle. The next day, her father had really laid into her, yelling so loud the neighbor, Mr. Smith, came over to complain. Henry Steele kicked him out rather quickly and then went back to yelling at his daughter, who was only half listening. Though, frankly, she would rather take the simple frustration of her father yelling at her than the unrivaled, agonizing, soul-reaching pain of being away from Carlisle. It still made no sense to her, why her body was gasping for air, why her heart was hammering in her chest, cold sweat breaking along her body. It felt even worse than the night before, that feeling of death making her woozy enough that her mother sent her back to bed after her father finished his rant. She stayed there for a couple days, her mother insisting she had the flu, but Annabelle knew better. Though her throat hurt and her chest ached and she had cold sweats and chills, it wasn't the flu. It was the absence of that one mysterious man that made her this way. No matter how many times she thought of him to be just her imagination, no matter how many times she pretended as if he were just Prince Charming in her fairytales making his way into reality, she knew the truth of it.

Carlisle was _real_. He was a real man who had found her in the woods and helped her back to town. If he heard what she was thinking, how she was reacting to his absence, he would probably think her crazy and suggest to Henry and Gwendolyn to have her locked up in the lunatic asylum. It was one of the reasons she never spoke of him to her parents, besides the fact her father would demand she tell him everything—which would include her hiding spot in the woods—and then go searching for Carlisle to knock him around and make sure he never spoke to her again. Not that Henry would find him, but the threat was still there, and the thought of him going anywhere near Carlisle with malicious intent had her moaning in agony and gripping her feather pillow to her face as she dry heaved.

Annabelle had kept nothing down except for dry crackers and water, and she knew Gwendolyn was getting worried. Even Henry passed her glances as he walked through the hallway when Gwendolyn had the door open to check on her. But of course, she never said a word, and just let the aches and chills and death work its way through her body and soul.

"This should not be happening." Henry's voice roused her from her light slumber and she barely had enough energy to bring her head up and glance over at the doorway where her father planted himself, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. A deep frown etched into his face, he watched over his wife as she attended to their daughter. Annabelle could see that while he tried to keep up his usually tough exterior, there was worry deep in his blue eyes. While he was a hard man, he wasn't heartless and she knew he cared. And for that reason, she wished she could pick herself up and get over this, but it wasn't as if she had a choice. Carlisle was sent to her through no means of her own, and taken away the exact same way. These were simply her consequences, as foolish as she felt.

"Henry," Gwendolyn admonished softly, but the man shook his head and stepped into the room, standing behind his wife.

"No, Gwen. Look at her. She is an Immortal. Sickness does not effect us, certainly not a meager flu. Something is going on here, and I intend to find out what." He was very confident in his words and Annabelle felt some fear slide coldly through her veins. It felt as if he were trying to pry her own to get the truth out of her, as if he somehow knew about Carlisle just by looking at her, but that would be impossible. He might be an Immortal, but he wasn't a mindreader. She just had to breathe and let this... _whatever_ this was pass and all would go back to normal.

* * *

**-Henry-**

But Henry didn't just let it drop, of course. Later that day, after another round of dry heaving and soft moans, he had enough. As much as he wanted to drop to his knees beside his wife and look after his daughter, he had to be the man of the house and take actions into his own hands. Though he had always refused to go to the village doctor, he didn't need them taking a look at their family and seeing something was different and alerting the other humans—or worse, the vampires—that there was something peculiar about them. But now that had changed. His daughter, his only little girl, his pride and joy, was ill and he had no way of making it better. As much as Gwendolyn tried, she simply wasn't a doctor and that's what they needed.

However, he wasn't willing to leave her side, so he quickly went over to see Mr. Smith next door. Smith and Henry had never really gotten along, if the way Smith acted at Henry's berating of his daughter was anything to go by, but luckily for Henry, he allowed Henry entry into his home. Henry took off his cap and held it in his grip as Smith sent for his wife, Beth, and his youngest son, Timmy, who was a local newspaper boy as well as a message runner. If Henry weren't so desperate he would've gone to fetch the doctor himself—he heard there was a new one in town, thankfully, instead of having to run into the next village—but he didn't want to go too far away. If Annabelle took a turn for the worst while he was gone, he never would forgive himself.

"Why, Mr. Steele, it is such a pleasure to see you again," Beth Smith said kindly as she walked into the parlor, giving her husband a warning look as she bowed to Henry. Henry returned it, glancing down at Timmy where he was standing by his mother's leg. He was a mere eight years old, but he was a good lad and Henry trusted him with the duty he would be putting upon his tiny shoulders.

"Beth, George," he started, looking between the couple. "I must beg you of a favor. My Annabelle has grown quite ill and I do not wish to go too far from our home. I was hoping that if I give a small payment," He held up a bag with some rattling coins inside, "if I could send a message with Timmy to the doctor to bring him here to help her."

George—Mr. Smith—looked ready to protest, but Beth put a hand on his arm and gave him a sympathetic glance. "Of course, Henry. Timmy would be honored to run to the doctor for you." Timmy nodded eagerly and Henry nodded, tossing George the bag of coins. With his age—twelve hundred and ninety four as of two months previously—he had enough money he could probably buy the Colonies from Britain and still have enough to live comfortably with Gwendolyn and Annabelle for the rest of their lives. So the small bag of coins was nothing, however he was happy to see the way George's face lit up and the man seemed a bit warmer to Henry after that.

"I heard there is a new doctor in town," George said, directing his words to both Henry and Timmy. "His name is Collin or Cullen or something of that nature. He is set up in the old butcher shop on Heath Row, three doors in."

Henry nodded and took a folded sheet of paper out of his pocket to give to Timmy that explained Annabelle's illness and begged the doctor to come to them, and of course offering payment of his services. "Speak to no one except the doctor. Give this paper to no one. I want no one to know of this except for him. Understand, young man?" Henry said sternly. Timmy took the paper and carefully put it in his pocket while Beth quickly went to fetch his jacket and shoes.

"Yes, sir," Timmy said with a nod. Beth fixed him up and made sure to tell him of the rules while in the village, and Henry shook George's hand.

"Thank you very much, George."

"My pleasure, Henry."

Henry gave him a pressed smile as they all watched Timmy run out the door. It was then Henry took his leave, putting his cap back over his dark hair as he made his way back to his own home.

* * *

**-Carlisle-**

_**November 30, 1774** _

_**Doctor,** _

_**Pardon this intrusion and my deepest regards to you. I understand you are new in town and I loathe to request such a favor while you are still getting yourself acquainted with this area. However, it is of an urgent matter that I must request your presence in my home. My daughter has fallen ill and my wife and I have not been able to relieve her of her symptoms. She is feverish with chills, unable to eat and keep anything down, and is lethargic and fatigued. I fear for her health. I can guarantee a hefty payment for your services if you are able to come to my home and help my daughter in any way that you can. Below is my home address; I would greatly thank you for your services, and appreciate your kind consideration of my predicament.** _

_**Regards,  
Henry Steele** _

_**406 Mulberry Street  
Jamestown Village, Virginia** _

Carlisle had not expected visitors so early after arriving there, unsure if the word had even gotten out yet of his presence. He had yet to put up a sign above his practice to let people know he had arrived. But he supposed it was simply because of the small size of the village that people knew of his arrival. And there were simply some people who just lived for the village gossip and spent their days walking around to see what matters other people were getting themselves into so they could inform everyone else. However, the young boy—no older than ten—that showed up on his doorstep had surprised him. A quick scan told him that the boy wasn't ill himself, but he watched as he pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket.

"Pardon me, sir, I was sent by my neighbor to bring you this." He held up the paper and Carlisle smiled kindly as he took it from the boy's hand. "His daughter is ill, sir."

"Thank you, lad," Carlisle said, reaching into his own pocket for some coins that he handed over. The boy grinned excitedly.

"Thank you, sir!" he exclaimed before turning on his heel and scampering off. Carlisle chuckled softly and shut the door behind it, pausing just inside the threshold to read over the note that was given to him. An uneasy feeling swept over him the moment he began to read, just at the date, as if he were slowly being choked. It was impossible, vampires didn't need to breathe, and yet he still struggled to be able to draw in air. But he was able to read, his eyes sweeping eagerly over the finely scripted words, and it wasn't until his eyes read the name and address that the cold chill of icy death settled into his lungs.

_Annabelle._

He knew it had to be her. The last name was unique enough that he would recognize it anywhere, and even if the name weren't enough, the address surely was. It was the same address he dropped her off at the night before. He could remember it clearly, the house at the end of the street with dim flickering candle light in one window, the rest of the house dark. Made out of red brick, it was a relatively good sized two-story house with a few steps up to the doorway and freshly painted shutters. He remembered every detail since becoming a vampire clear as day, and he knew the way there without having to get a map or ask anyone.

The bag of his tools was packed in a second as he raced around getting what he needed, shoving his coat on and making sure he looked presentable to this family. Despite the fact he would never actually be with her, these were still the parents of his mate and he wanted to look his best. It was the mating call that made him feel so helpless, that made him so choked up and feeling like death. He was denying it and he knew that it was dangerous, but he never expected it to be dangerous for her as well. From what Marcus had told him, if a vampire mated with a human—which was incredibly rare—the vampire's emotions and feelings were much stronger than the humans. While the humans might feel a slight bit of uncomfortableness, the vampire would feel agony, especially if the call was denied or broken. Carlisle could live with that in himself, but to think that his leaving her had anything to do with her illness... Well, he was willing to go back and let Aro rip his head off and burn the rest, that's how tortured he felt.

It took every ounce of willpower not too run over to Mulberry Street and pound on her door. But there were other humans around for starters, not to mention the boy having left ten minutes ago and it would surely be suspicious if he was there so soon. But his hands actually trembled as he walked, slowly easing as he rounded the corner of First Avenue which connected to Mulberry, and yet the panic and terror inside him increased. If his heart could beat, it would be pounding out a furious rhythm behind his ribs, the sound of blood pulsating in his ears. As it was, his body was silent, even as he drew in ragged breaths, forcing himself to stop as he paused in front of 406 Mulberry.

Slowly he scaled the steps, took in another shallow breath, and knocked gingerly on the heavy oak door.

* * *

**-Henry-**

_Vampire._

Henry remembered very clearly the vampires named Volturi rounding up all of the Immortals and daggering them one by one as they stood in front of them. It happened to friends and other family members, and he and his own family barely got out of there with their lives. As it was, his father wasn't quite so lucky, but managed to last from Romania all the way up to Sweden before he fell victim to his fatal wounds. Matthew Steele was a good man, a strong man, and Henry missed him terribly even almost thirteen hundred years later. But he never forgot the faces of those that killed him, cold men both in feeling and in physicality, selfish and assured that the Immortals destruction was the best course of action for their endeavors in taking over the vampire world.

The Volturi had been a coven for a long time, but the Romanians had ruled. They were cold, but not nearly as cruel as the Volturi. Stefan and Vladimir sat on their thrones, enlisting the help of lesser vampires and Immortals alike to bring victims to them. Under their rule, humans knew of vampires—after all, they were weak and had no way of defeating a vampire, so why fight it?—and lived in fear of being their next victims. Humans rarely went out after twilight when the vampires hunted, choosing to keep themselves hidden in their homes, not that the Immortals blamed them. The vampires and Immortals had a very hesitant relationship; the Immortals knew the vampires were the superior species and, as long as the vampires didn't feed on them—most didn't want to anyway, the Immortals smelled fiercely fowl to them, however if their blood was drained, the vampire would be even more powerful than others, as powerful as if drinking from twenty men at once—they would follow the vampire's rules and work for them.

Matthew Steele—known at the time as Nathaniel Pope—was a guard, a soldier for the Romanian coven. When the Volturi's forces attacked the palace, it was he who guarded the throne room where Vladimir and Stefan sat, slowly petrifying, and worked his hardest to keep the Volturi forces out of the room. But most of the other Immortal and vampire soldiers alike fell and Nathaniel was forced to give up. It was during his attempt at escape that he was stabbed with a silver dagger, his heart not fully punctured, but nicked. He knew his time was limited, slowly bleeding out, and so he found his way back to his family. His wife, Mary, along with his daughters, Elizabeth and Sarah, and his son, Jonathan, were all at home. Jonathan was merely five years old when the Romanians finally fell, but he had a good memory. He remembered it like it was yesterday, watching the palace burn as Nathaniel dragged the four of them into the woods in an attempt to distance themselves from the vampires. Only Mary knew of his ailment, the children not understanding until they arrived in Sweden and Nathaniel succumbed.

During the run, Nathaniel made the decision to make his family disappear. _"You are not Pope anymore. That is gone. We are new, a fresh family that will live amongst the humans and pretend we do not know of the vampires' existence. We are strong, the strongest on Earth. We will stick together and survive, prove to the vampires that we will not fear them. We are strong. We are steel." He paused. "We are Steele."_ Nathaniel then became Matthew. Mary was Gretchen, Elizabeth and Sarah were Angelica and Samantha, and Jonathan became Henry. It was watching as Nathaniel Pope became Matthew Steele, and then as Matthew perished, that he decided his hatred of vampires was strong and a force to be reckoned with.

Barely did he hold himself back from launching himself at the leech in his doorway, his hand gripping the door handle so tight that he feared it would break. He managed to keep the sneer off his face, but just barely, instead settling for a look of distrust and discontent, one he was sure the stranger would understand seeing as he was new and Henry didn't know him. Not that he wanted to, of course. Vampires were all the same and if this man knew what his family was, he would either have to attempt an assassination, or gather his wife and daughter and flee. Neither idea sat well with him, and he knew Annabelle would be infuriated at him, but her protection and safety meant more to him than anything. He would gladly accept her wrath and hatred as long as she lived.

 _As long as she lived._ That was the only reason he gave the vampire doctor a slow nod. The man smiled kindly as if not knowing what Henry was, and he supposed that could be the truth. After the expulsion of Immortals from the face of the world, the Volturi burned anything written of them and banned those alive from ever speaking of them again. If this vampire was born after the sixth century, then he wouldn't know of the Steeles' true identity. That gave him the slightest bit of comfort as he stepped aside to allow the leech inside, though it was very hard for him to do so.

"Doctor," he finally said, keeping his voice free of scathing hatred. "Thank you for coming. I am Henry Steele."

"Dr. Carlisle Cullen," the doctor said, holding out his hand. Henry hesitated only for a moment before shaking it. "I understand your daughter is unwell?" There was an odd look on his face, a lilt to his voice, something Henry didn't understand. But it was gone a moment later so he just shook those thoughts away as he gave a curt nod.

"Yes. For roughly a week, Annabelle—" He didn't see the twitch the doctor gave at the sound of her name, "—has gotten worse. It first started with simple chills and aches, but progressed to a fever. She is unable to hold down food, barely able to drink water. My wife believes she is dehydrated, yet it almost pains her to drink. She barely wakes up, but when she is she is just moaning in pain." Henry didn't fake the look of fear that fell over his face as he glance at Dr. Cullen. "I do not understand. She has never been ill before. Nobody in the village is ill, not like this. I do not know what to do, doctor."

The vampire gave a slow nod, looking to be thinking something over, before he gestured to Henry. "I will be happy to take a look and do what I can." He paused. "May I see her?"

"Of course," Henry said. "She is upstairs in her bedroom with her mother." The doctor nodded and Henry turned to lead him up the stairs and into Annabelle's bedroom.

* * *

**-Carlisle-**

The hardest thing he had to do was stand there with Henry Steele and pretend that he didn't know Annabelle. It felt wrong and unnatural, and he felt so guilty that he could've fallen to his knees right there. And listening to him speak of her illness had the protectiveness spiking in him so intensely, he just barely held the beast inside. It wanted to run up to her, shove everyone out the door and lock it, while he tended to his mate to make sure she was safe. But it brought about a question: how was he expected to do what was right by her, if leaving her was what was best, and yet if he did, it seemed she might not survive it? The morality of the situation warned inside him as he scaled the stairs much too slowly behind her father.

Henry Steele seemed like a good man, and yet there was something off about them. Annabelle was early twenties, Carlisle could tell, just a little bit younger than he was when he was turned at twenty-three. But Henry seemed to be not much older than that, thirty at the oldest, far too young to have a daughter her age. He supposed he could've just aged well, that was the only possible explanation, but that didn't also account for Gwendolyn Steele once he met her up in Annabelle's doorway. It was clear that Annabelle got her looks from Gwendolyn with the shape of her face and her adorable little button nose. Her dark hair was from her father, and her cerulean eyes could've come from either. So obviously they were her biological parents, as a doctor and a keen vampiric observer, he could see that. _But they are so young,_ he thought as he looked them over. He didn't read too much into it, though. They just had to have aged fairly well.

The mother blocked his sight to her and he very nearly snarled at her to get out of the way. But that was the beast talking, and he held him back as he politely bowed to Gwendolyn, who returned the gesture. She looked just as worried as her husband, even more so it seemed. Her hair was escaping its knot and she looked exhausted, clearly having been awake caring for her daughter for many hours. She deserved a break and he would kindly recommend that while he looked over Annabelle. Plus, it would satisfy the beast, who was snarling at the parents to leave them.

"This is my wife, Gwendolyn," Henry had introduced.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Steele."

"Call me Gwen," the woman said with a sad smile. "We are so grateful that you came to us, Dr. Cullen. Anna is our baby girl and if she doesn't get better—" Her voice broke off and Henry immediately reached for her hand.

"Hush, wife," he said gently, showing more tenderness to her than Carlisle thought him capable of. "Dr. Cullen will do what he can to help the girl."

"Of course," Carlisle said kindly. He paused. "If you would, it looks as if you need a break. I shall look upon your daughter and examine her, while you get supper."

Gwendolyn looked torn. "I...I do not think I can. I should not leave her..."

"Let the man work, Gwen. Let us go get supper and we can visit upon her later." Henry gently moved her away from the door, finally allowing Carlisle to view the girl curled up under a thin white sheet on the bed. His heart fell into his stomach as venom filled his throat and the beast roared yet again at her pathetic state. "Thank you, doctor."

Carlisle simply nodded and watched carefully as the couple exited, their footsteps fading downstairs and only when Carlisle knew he was alone, did he move into the bedroom. Silently he shut the door, taking in his surroundings for only a second. The window faced Mulberry street, the sheer white curtain blowing gently against the breeze drifting through the open pane. There was a simple, handmade dresser against one wall with a lace covering and a bowl of water with a rag sitting on top. The opposite wall had a mirror on it next to the armoire that most likely held Annabelle's finer clothing. The bed was opposite the window, pushed against the wall, made of dark wood like the dresser, armoire, and table that sat next to it. There was a quilt hung over the footboard the clearly used to be spread over the girl, but was probably taken off in her fever. The sheets were stark white, a tad paler than Annabelle's skin.

Well, what it usually was as it was paler now, other than her cheeks flushed with deep crimson from her illness. Her forehead was dotted with cold sweat, her chest stuttering with breath as she slept restlessly, twitching and shifting every few seconds. The sheets clung to her, becoming nearly transparent from the way her body was heavy with perspiration, wrapped around her in twisted knots. As Henry had said, she moaned softly, throwing her head to the side where her braided, raven hair flung over her throat.

Carlisle felt his entire being ache, his soul weeping for her current state of illness, the beast growling at him for causing this in the first place. If the beast had its way, they would already be connected as mates should be. But it was the humanity in Carlisle, the man, that forced them apart. He was naive enough to think that he would be the only one paying the consequences of that decision; how foolish that notion was. She was far worse off than he was. _Human versus vampire,_ he thought. He couldn't get sick, not like she could, otherwise he would probably be in the same boat. Instead of illness like she was presenting, he just had the constant ache, a rip of agony through his soul every few moments.

Finally he got to work, his observation moments finished. There was still a chair next to the bed that Gwendolyn had vacated so he took that, but only after grabbing the bowl of water off of the dresser. He set it on the bedside table and dipped the rag into it, gathering some of the cool moisture, and reaching to dab at her forehead. She whimpered then and Carlisle sighed brokenly, dabbing a couple more times before bringing his free hand up to her heated cheek, knowing the cool temperate of his palm might work better than the damp rag.

"Oh, Annabelle..." he murmured, gently moving some pieces of hair stuck to her cheek behind her ear. It was that movement, a gentle caress of his fingers against her skin, that seemed to work. He watched in surprise as her eyelids flew open, she gasped, and shot up in bed.

* * *

**-Annabelle-**

How long had she been out of it? Time had no meaning to her, not when she was deep in the fog of her own mind. Part of her was aware of what was going on, the fact that she was ill and getting worse. But mostly she just drifted in and out of conscious, not understanding when her mother left and came back, the same for her father. _How am I sick?_ she wondered, remembering faintly back to when her father had told her of her fate three years previously. Immortals couldn't get an illness, the genes of their bodies forbid it. It would just fight off anything that tried to attack her, including things like bullets or being stabbed with anything that wasn't made out of silver. Her genes worked to keep her alive, stopped her aging at the age of maturity—roughly ages twenty-two to twenty-eight depending on the person—and kept her safe from harm. So her illness made no sense, unless it went deeper than the physical.

Which made her think of when it started, the day after leaving Carlisle and vowing not to see him. She was denying him, denying the feelings she had no matter how foolish she thought it was, or how many times she told herself, _You just met the man. You cannot feel anything for him._ Yet, it seemed it didn't matter, if this experience was any indication. But where could she even begin to look? She knew his name, but not where he lived. He could've just been traveling through Jamestown or even Virginia as a whole for all she knew. His accent had told her he wasn't from around there, so chances were he was no longer there. And she just let him slip through her fingers.

 _Silly girl, you're just being dramatic,_ she scolded herself, and yet she stayed in her fatigued slumber, not waking for her mother's touches or her father's voice. However, a new touch had her body racing, cells working to stitch her back together, her heart slamming into her stomach as her lungs drew in a gasping breath. She still ached and she was still tired, but her eyes flew open and she sat up quickly, panting softly through her dry lips. She didn't understand, didn't know why this new touch had brought her out of the fog when none had before.

"Annabelle?"

The voice. _Oh, that voice._ She recognized it in an instant as that feeling of death crept away like it was never even there to begin with. It confused her even more, unsure of how something that consumed her so wholly for so long just disappeared, but one glance over into the ochre eyes told her everything she needed to know, even though it didn't make sense. She was meant to be there with him, made to be at his side. It was confusing and alarming, to be so connected to a man she just met a week ago and only one time, but she had to physically restrain herself from reaching for him. But it didn't stop her from gazing upon him, feasting upon his image just like she had before, greedily and with no abandon. She blinked slowly, feeling the sweat on her body cooling and making her sticky, internally wincing as she realized she looked a mess with the sheets and her night clothes sticking to her. Luckily he didn't seem to mind, he just looked shocked and slowly he gave her a gentle smile, the hand that had fallen from her rising to gently touch the back of her hand that was fisting the sheets in it.

"Carlisle," she murmured, her voice hoarse and she cleared it softly to get rid of it. "Wha—" She paused and cleared her throat again. "—what is going on? What are you doing here?" Her words weren't unkind, just stunned and curious. To her absolute delight, he chuckled softly.

"Your father sent for me. I am a doctor." She raised an eyebrow. _He did? Since when does he trust anyone else?_ Then again, if she was that sick, he probably thought he had no choice. "I came as soon as I could." He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he held back, studying her for another moment while her mind worked through the fog. The longer she sat there with his hand on hers, the most clearly she could think. "What happened, Annabelle?" he wondered, his voice soft and curious.

As her cheeks were already flushed, the blush wasn't as noticeable as it usually was, though she did miss the way his eyes flickered down to her cheeks quickly and back up to her eyes. She bit her lip for a millisecond before she answered. "I honestly have no idea," she whispered finally. "I woke up the next morning after you walked me home, and I just felt very ill." There was no way Annabelle was going to tell this beautiful man that it was lack of _him_ that made her so sick. It was an odd notion to think that being away from a stranger effected her so much, made her physically ill, but it's not as if she could deny it. Because her father was right, she _shouldn't_ be able to be ill and yet she was. For some reason, this was the only exception, as if it weren't completely natural.

 _I am not natural, of course this illness is not natural either,_ she thought wryly.

Carlisle was frowning ever so slightly and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to comfort him, to try and take the frown off his face and put the smile back on his face. He didn't say anything for a few moments, as if she had done something wrong, and she looked away, eyes landing on his hand that still lay on top of hers. It felt heavenly, having that simple touch he bestowed upon her. She knew she wouldn't get many of them so she would take what she could get. She studied the smooth lines of his skin, no blemishes or marks across them, no lines or wrinkles. It was only then, trying to distract herself, that she noticed just how cold he was.

It was like holding onto a smooth and silky ice cube. Her head tilted a little, feeling that his hand was hard as a rock underneath the distractingly smooth skin. It made her think back to her father's stories, the way he described vampires. Cold and hard, able to move a building with their pinky if they so wished, not to mention the crimson color of their eyes. But Carlisle's were topaz, and yet she couldn't stop thinking about it, her mind moving over what was laying before her and coming to a conclusion even as she didn't quite want to believe it.

 _He cannot possibly be one of those bloodthirsty, heartless creatures that killed the rest of my kind, can he?_ she wondered. Yet his hand didn't move, and a quick glance up to him told her that there was no pulse beating on his neck or wrist, and his chest only rose a couple times a minute. _He's not heartless or cruel or bloodthirsty. But I know what he is._

"Vampire."

Oh gosh, did she really just say that out loud? She hadn't meant to, her entire body heating up with embarrassment and then running cold as he pulled away in an instant. She blinked once, twice and he was over by the window, causing her to frown in confusion. The look on his face was a cross between fear and shock as he studied her, and he still hadn't said a word to her about what he thought her illness might be, though he would know better than she would considering he was a doctor.

 _It has nothing to do with him, it cannot. He is a vampire, the enemy of the Immortals, and yet I am drawn to him like no other. There has to be some other logical explanation to solving this,_ she thought, even though all the evidence was proving otherwise. His mere presence made her feel much better than she had been, though now that he was away her chest ached again, her heart pounding, her breathing uneven.

"I-I apologize," she whispered, biting her lip and looking down at her hands that had begun to twist in the sheets on her lap. "If I am wrong, you are welcome to call me crazy and leave. But my father told me about them. How they killed our kind. He told me what to look for. Except for your eyes, you fit every description." She sighed.

Silence assaulted her ears again and she winced. It was worse than if he just yelled at her or told her she was mad. She would rather he say something than make her wait, though she supposed she would be a bit speechless, too, if she was accused of being an undead, bloodthirsty creature of the night. Though the _"creature of the night"_ part was just myth, as Henry had told her, but the drinking blood part was all true.

"Your kind?"

His voice broke through her thoughts and she looked up, seeing confusion adding itself to the look on his face, watching as he hesitantly approached the bed once again. She stared at him calmly and that seemed to help him out. There was no part of her that was afraid, even if she thought she should be. Henry had told her how violent they were, how quickly they would kill just because they could. But she didn't fear him, she didn't want him gone. In fact, she wanted him closer, she never wanted to let him go.

"You do not know of us?" she wondered, also remembering how Henry had told her the vampires born after the sixth century would be unaware of their existence. True to her thoughts, Carlisle shook his head. Henry would be incredibly displeased with her if she told their secret, but this was _Carlisle_ , she couldn't _not_ tell him. Especially now that she revealed she knew his identity as well. "We are called Immortals," she started, watching as he frowned softly. She shook her head. "We are not human, we are not vampires. We stop aging once we reach maturity. I am sure you have noticed my parents look only ten years older than I. That was the age they reached." And she told him all the rest of it, everything that her father told her, and she reached into the drawer under her bedside table where she knew her mother would've put it, and pulled out the silver dagger, laying it on the bed in front of her. _He is the enemy, you should not show him this,_ she admonished herself. And yet _Carlisle_ and _enemy_ did not belong in a sentence together, not in the way she was thinking. He was no more her enemy than she was to him.

"The dagger that can kill you," he said softly and she nodded.

"Anything made of silver," she added quietly. "Luckily there has been no mentioned of bullets being made of silver, or I believe my father would have left the human world long ago. But humans are evolving every day. He told me that is why the Volturi decided the vampires should no longer be known to the humans, and why we should disappear. The Romanians sat in their palace and did not leave for thousands of years. But the Volturi were out there amongst the humans, watching them grow and change. They saw the advancement of their weapons and they predicted soon they would create something that could obliterate all vampire kind. So they fought the Romanians because Stefan and Vladimir did not agree with going into hiding. And they believed we Immortals were a liability, that we would turn them over to the humans and allow the humans to kill them with their advancing weapons so that we would be the most powerful beings on Earth. From what Father said, none of the Immortals had that intention, but the Volturi did not believe them and massacred us. Only a dozen families escaped, my mother and father's families included."

"Were you there when this happened?" he wondered.

Annabelle shook her head. "No. My father was, he was five years old when his father took their family and fled Romania. But I am merely twenty-one years old. I did not know of my true fate until I was eighteen years old. I had been hidden until then because I was stronger and faster than the other children, and they feared if I were to get injured playing with them, then the humans would see my accelerated healing and know that I am different because of it."

"How fast can you heal?"

"When I was seven-years-old, I broke my arm after falling from the front steps at our old home in Richmond. What should have taken six weeks to heal took two hours."

Carlisle raised an eyebrow. "How then, I wonder, did this illness get to you."

She flushed again, ignoring the way his eyes flickering to her burning cheeks. "I do not know," she whispered. "I should not have been able to get sick." She paused. "I have never been sick a day in my life. Not until the day after I left you outside my house."

He didn't speak, but she saw him let out a shaky breath and to her shock, she realized he was as nervous as she was. Her head tilted to the side again and gingerly she lifted up her hand, watching as he looked at it curiously and then back to her cerulean gaze.

"I am not afraid of you, Carlisle," she whispered. "And I do not understand what is happening. But...I believe this sickness—" She paused again, swallowing thickly as if to swallow her pride and her fear. "—I believe this sickness is because I left your side." She shook her head. "I do not wish to do so again."

He let out another breath, and she saw the pure joy that took over his features, and she couldn't help but smile herself. A warmth like no other flooded through her, and she realized that she didn't _have_ to let him go, not really. Yes, they should be enemies. The universe was a cruel master that fated together two beings that should not be able to stand each other. And yet they both needed each other, their very lives depended upon it. She feared that this sickness could truly kill her if it continued, if he left her or she him, even though there was no silver dagger involved. He was the other half of her soul, she could see that in his face, the look on his face as he dropped onto the edge of her bed rather than back into the chair her mother had spent the last week in. He was _hers_ , the possessiveness inside her screamed. she had never felt that way before, like she wanted nobody to look at or speak to this man ever again. It was silly, and yet she felt like she saw that in his gaze as he tenderly looked over her face, his own filled with such love and devotion that she felt tears prickle her eyes.

"I cannot believe that you feel it, too," he whispered, and she couldn't help but smile softly. "I was told that only vampires could feel such an emotion, that humans were too weak to experience it lest it kill them. But you're not human, not fully. It is as if your soul felt it, but your body was fighting against it."

"Will I be sick forever?" she wondered.

He shook his head and reached again for her hand, which she eagerly took. "No, my dear." The familiar term of affection made her shiver as a loving smile lifted the corner of her lips. "Your body fought it as it should, because you were rejecting what your soul was telling you. We both were rejecting it, I am sorry to say. But you feel well now, correct?"

She nodded. "Much better."

He smiled. "That is because your soul felt me near you, and now that we both accepted this," Her eyes went wide with beautiful understanding, "your body is no longer fighting you and will allow your soul to take over." For a moment she just watched him, let her eyes run over his beautiful face, committing every part of it to memory. He almost looked... _vulnerable_ as he looked at her, waiting for her to say or do something that he was expecting her to. But the longer they sat there together, him holding her hand tightly—yet not as tightly as she knew he could, he would probably crush it, at least according to her father—the more a look of wonder spread across his lips, and the more she wanted to just crawl into his lap and never leave.

"You are serious," he whispered. "You are not afraid of me."

"How could I be afraid? My soul was meant to be with yours. I could never be afraid of you, Carlisle."

Slowly a smile spread over his face, even larger than the one before, and he gingerly moved closer. She matched the look, her heart picking up speed as he urged her closer, allowing her to climb into his lap just like she wanted before. There was a mere moment, no time at all, that they simply looked at each other. It was the perfect moment, a moment that was meant to happen as the universe had created it as such. First it created Carlisle and doomed him to this life, however it then created Annabelle and gave her the gift of allowing her to live with him, and yet not force him to choose to doom her as well or live without her. It was the perfect balance, like the light and the dark, the gifted and the cursed, the lion and the lamb.

And when his lips finally took hers, she knew she was exactly where she needed to be: home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No outfits for chapter two, but:
> 
> \- [Annabelle's Parents](https://www.polyvore.com/annabelle_for_all_my_life/set?id=220280431)


	3. Run and Hide

**-Annabelle-**

The kiss didn't last for nearly as long as Annabelle would've liked it to, but she figured they had eternity, so she couldn't really complain much. However, it was good he pulled away, leaving her alone on the bed, but a moment later she heard the heavy thud of her father's boots against the second floor hallway and understood why he pulled away. That didn't mean she enjoyed it, watching him compose himself as he stood silently and respectfully next to the chair by her bed. Since her room was the first door on the left at the top of the stairs, Henry knocked on the door just seconds later, and Annabelle knew he would've had a fit if she saw them in such a position. Not that she didn't think Carlisle would be hurt, but that didn't mean she wanted her soulmate and her father fighting. As much as they disagreed, she loved her father and would be heartbroken if something happened to him.

She swallowed thickly and quickly pulled the sheet up nearly to her chin, making herself look as pitiful as she felt the past week, seeing Carlisle fight a smile out of the corner of her eye which made her want to smile as well. But she held it back as she shifted and let out a breath before calling out to her father behind the closed door.

"Come in," she said, making her voice weak like it had been, and immediately the door swung open to reveal Henry standing there. He looked more than a bit startled, looking between Carlisle and Annabelle as if they were playing a practical joke on him or something.

"Anna," he breathed, ignoring Carlisle completely—not that Annabelle was really expecting anything different—and quickly tugged the chair closer to sit beside her, taking her hand in his. His skin was actually startlingly warm compared to Carlisle's, but of course she didn't react or say anything about it. She knew her father knew what he was, but she was grateful he didn't say anything about it. Perhaps he was truly that desperate; it was true, she had never quite seen Henry Steele like that before, almost vulnerable. He looked raw and exposed, not hiding his emotions from her for the first time in her life as he looked her over carefully. "I cannot believe it... You are alright?"

Annabelle nodded and slowly moved the sheets away from her face. "I am, Father. Dr. Cullen helped me a lot." Over her father's head, she caught his loving smile and had to fight hers away as Henry's eyes narrowed just a bit, but not enough that she thought he wanted her to notice. It was then, when she mentioned Carlisle, that he tensed, as if he had forgotten for a moment that Carlisle was there. He gazed at Annabelle for a moment longer before he stood and turned to the man waiting patiently by the door. For a moment she thought Henry was going to ask him to leave, but luckily he didn't. Instead he surprised them both by holding out a bag full of coins to Carlisle, who hesitated and spared a glance over Henry's shoulder to Annabelle, who nodded mutely. If he declined, her father would become frustrated by his wounded pride, and also suspicious that a doctor would forgo payment.

With a sigh only Annabelle could see, he gave Henry a nod of thanks and took the bag from the man's grasp.

"You saved my daughter, Dr. Cullen. I owe you much more than that for her life, along with my gratitude. So I thank you." And then he surprised them yet again by holding his hand out to shake. From the way he spoke, he hated vampires. From the stiffness of his body, Annabelle knew that was still true, but his worry for her and his gentleman upbringing and southern hospitality didn't allow him to kick Carlisle out the door when he did something so kind for them. But that didn't stop him from tensing even more when Carlisle obliged and shook his hand, nodding his head in a respectful bow and pretending that he didn't know about the family's secret, or that he saw how his presence made Henry more than a bit uncomfortable.

"It was my pleasure, Mr. Steele. I am glad I could help out Annabelle. She seems like a bright young woman."

"Indeed," Henry said simply, finally turning back to his daughter, and she saw his posture relax in the slightest. She smiled up into his identical cerulean eyes and slowly shifted so she could sit up against the pillows that had been shoved back against the headboard. Henry sat again and took her hand. "I am so very happy to see you well again, daughter." He paused and glanced over his shoulder at Carlisle. "That will be all, Dr. Cullen. If we have anymore concerns, I shall send Timmy back to fetch you."

It was Annabelle and Carlisle who tensed then, knowing this parting was inevitable, and yet they had both resisted thinking of it. Annabelle couldn't bear it, watching her soulmate walk away from her, not when she just discovered the truth behind what all of this meant. She gulped ever so slightly, not enough to alert her father, but Carlisle did see it, she could see by the melancholy expression that his polite smile barely masked to Henry.

"Of course, Mr. Steele." He looked to Annabelle. "Miss Steele." He bowed and reached down next to the bedside table to pick up the bag he hadn't needed to use once. "Farewell and goodnight," he said.

"Goodnight, Dr. Cullen," Annabelle whispered. He shot the father and daughter duo one last look, his entire body looking as if it were fighting against his actions as he turned and headed out the door, clicking it shut softly behind him. Annabelle let out a breath and ignored the way her hands trembled once he left, the distance already too much to bear and she loathed it. She wanted to jump up and run after him, but she didn't, partially because of her father's reaction and partially because she still wasn't completely well and wasn't sure her legs could hold her weight right then. However, Henry misinterpreted the shaking of her hands as something else, because he frowned and moved to sit next to her on the bed, putting an arm around her small shoulders.

"Anna, please do not be frightened," he whispered. "I know you understand what that man is. I told you how vampires appeared three years ago, and I see you still remember. But do not be afraid, I do not believe he knows what we are. He must be younger than the sixth century. So he is no danger to us. And do not worry, you do not have to see him again. This sickness was a fluke, but as an Immortal, you will be able to overcome anything. So there is no need to see that man again." His words were both a comfort and a warning to her. He didn't understand what passed between them, but her father made it clear: do not go calling on Dr. Cullen, or she would have some serious trouble on her hands.

The smile she gave him was pressed, even as she cuddled into her father's side, the action making his hard exterior melt. "Of course not, Father," she lied. "I will not see that man again."

* * *

But of course, Annabelle didn't listen to him. The next couple days were spent in bed on her mother's insistence, and it was pure agony. While her sickness went away, the cold hollow ache in her chest grew and grew until she couldn't breathe without gasping, until all she could hear was the furious pounding of her own heart. Luckily for her, neither of her parents noticed this change, so when the sun shown on the third day of her wellness, they permitted her to leave her room to move about the village as she normally would've. To celebrate her freedom, she had her mother help with a quick bath in their small metal tub set up in the back room behind the kitchen, making sure to scrub every inch of her body clean and fresh, before she pulled on her freshly washed dress—the same one she wore when they first met, and her favorite one at that with the single layer of gray-colored skirts, and the white bodice with a nice pattern sewn into it. She tied her gray beaded sash around her waist, the gray being the same color as her skirt, and settled her hair around her shoulders with a simple headband of flowers in the raven depths.

"Do you have special plans or something?" Gwendolyn teased from her spot int he kitchen kneading out some freshly made bread dough that would be baked in the brick wood oven her father had built next to the hearth.

Annabelle glanced away as she grabbed one of the fresh apples laid in the bowl on the table, new from the market that her father had picked up the day before. She didn't want her mother to see her blush as she shook her head, leaning down long enough to slide on her simple black shoes.

"No, however I am pleased to finally be able to leave the house. It has been almost ten days since I have breathed in fresh air. It is starting to get stuffy in here."

Gwendolyn laughed. "You are such an adventurous spirit," she said fondly. Her father had often said that before, but his tone was always scathing. He wanted her to stay put and listen to his orders, while Gwendolyn always said she wanted more for her daughter and she should experience the world.

Of course, Henry was born in a time that every single day had to be feared, but Gwendolyn was born after everything happened so she didn't know battle like Henry did. Gwendolyn's grandparents—Samuel and Enid—were killed by the Volturi, and her father, Michael, was around the same age as Henry when they escaped Poland and made it to England soon after. Michael's oldest brother, William, was sixteen and he took over care for Michael, their sisters Hannah and Gertrude, and their other brother, Paul. Gwendolyn was born around 1450 and she met Henry aboard the Mayflower when they both posed as Puritans making their way to the New World. From there they realized their love for each other and broke away from the others in the night, running down the coast of the Colonies until they wound up in what eventually became Roanoke Colony. However, they had left the island before the disappearance of the other one hundred and sixteen citizens so even they didn't know what happened to them.

It amazed Annabelle the type of history surrounding her on a day-to-day basis with her parents, and now she would be able to add Carlisle to the mix. She desperately wanted to hear his story, so she quickly finished her fruit and bid her mother goodbye. Luckily Henry was downtown at the village hall speaking with the magistrate about something, so she didn't have to give him too many excuses. And even luckier for her, Carlisle's office—which she managed to bargain out of Timmy Smith for a couple biscuits and some coins—was in the opposite direction, so she had no danger of him finding out what she was up to.

It took everything in her not to skip over to Carlisle's office, but she figured that would bring about looks and gossip that she just didn't need, especially because it was sure to get back to at least her mother. Her mother had a sewing circle with Betty Lane, the town gossip, a woman who always found out about everything that sometimes you didn't even know about yourself. Her house was, of course, right on the market so it faced all of the action, so Annabelle took a slightly longer way to Heath Row. It was a small street filled up mostly with business like Carlisle's office—which she remembered was once Flannigan's Butcher Shop—along with a tailer, a baker, and a barber shop. She passed the other buildings quickly and stopped outside of the door that now read **Dr. Carlisle Cullen** with a picture of a mortar and pestle above it.

Annabelle smiled, feeling the excitement growing within her as her entire body eased. It was a bit of a surprise to her, but then again, so was the sickness and the was a whole lot worse of a feeling than the growing hollow ache in her chest. She understood that it was her body basically shutting down from lack of accepting her soulmate. It was still a rather foreign concept, but she supposed it was just a vampire thing. She would have to speak to Carlisle more about it.

Taking a deep breath, she lifted her shaky hand to rap upon the door. While she wanted to just barge in, that would be incredibly rude, even considering their bond they had. She wished she had vampiric hearing so she could know if he was even home, but alas she had to wait until he got closer to the door. While her hearing was better than a human's, it still wasn't up to par in the slightest with a vampire. But it seemed that didn't matter, because only a couple moments after she knocked, her heart began to race in a completely different way, her entire body straightening up in posture, the breath in her lungs coming out in one slow sound. She took a moment to quickly make sure her dress was straight and her hair fell perfectly, the headband fixed in the best way. The dagger was cool against her thigh, making her heated skin break out in goosebumps, her weight shifting from one foot to the other.

 _It is normal to be nervous,_ she told herself. _Carlisle is my soulmate. It is not very often you meet the other half of your soul and call upon him unannounced. But I have to remain calm because I do not want to scare him off before we even get a chance at forever._

Her thoughts did nothing to help because she could simply _feel_ it as he moved from the other side of the building and closer to the door, pausing ever so slightly just inside, before pulling it open so nothing stood between them.

The somersaults in her heart didn't stop, in fact they picked up as she stared into his beautiful, charming, yet slightly surprised face. She had a pretty good feeling that he could feel her there as well, but it wasn't as if this meeting was planned. For a moment they just studied each other before slowly he smiled and held out a hand to her, bringing hers up to his lips once she set it against his palm, and as usual kissed the top of it. It made her think of their other kiss, their first kiss, _her_ first kiss. Of course it should be her soulmate that she gave that to. It would be Carlisle that she gave _everything_ to, no matter what her father or mother or anyone else said. The thought made her blush, and her reaction gave him a curious look, but he didn't ask as he gently guided her inside.

The front room was set up for his practice. The front wall had once been all glass, but he had set up wooden panels along them to keep out prying eyes. The exam table sat in the middle, his tools sat neat and clean on a table against the opposite wall. There were framed drawings of anatomy behind the table, and against the back had shelves of medicine. There was a curtain that hung in the doorway leading to the rest of the building, which she knew would most likely have a surgical room at the back for more intense procedures, and then his private quarters were above that.

Annabelle smiled as she looked around, finally raising her speculative cerulean glance to the vampire who was studying her curiously, waiting for her response.

"Well, you certainly made the old 'butcher shop' title unrecognizable," she joked, delighted when she earned a deep, hearty laugh from him. She smiled wider. "It looks lovely in here, Carlisle. Did you do all this yourself?"

He nodded, locking his arms behind his back as he looked over his handy work proudly. "Other than having George Hamilton cut the wood to the right size for the windows, I did it all myself." He paused. "I would say things were heavier than they seem, but that would be a lie." She giggled at him, and his whole face lit up in a smile. He took a step closer to her, his hand lifting and her breath catching as he laid it over her cheek. That gaze of love and adoration colored his face again, making her nearly melt against him as he glanced over her features. "That is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard," he sighed reverently. "I wish to hear that every day for the rest of our lives."

Her eyes went wide, her breath stuttering to a stop, the words completely unexpected. But oh so completely welcomed. For a moment his smile faded just a tad as if expecting her to back away. It was a humbling thought, _"the rest of our lives,"_ which if all went according to plan, would be an extremely long time. Not that she minded. She was already facing an eternity, but to know that she started out her soon-to-be long life with her soulmate...she was the luckiest girl in the world. However, she felt a bit sad that Carlisle had to wait—exactly how long, she didn't know yet, but she didn't like to think of it even being as short as a month let alone as long as she feared—and would vow to spend their eternity making it up to her.

Finally she let herself process the words and she took another small step to him, watching as he allowed his eyes to widen, and she stood up on her toes so she was closer to his tall frame, yet still so much shorter than him.

"As long as 'the rest of our lives' means forever, then I can promise you shall hear it every day."

The surprise on his face was beautiful, but it was even more beautiful the way he whispered, "Annabelle," as if he were speaking the true name of God. She smiled lovingly and, for once in her life, decided to be bold. She leaned up even closer and, before he could grasp her meaning, she pressed her lips against his. She felt him tense ever so slightly, but then he hummed, almost a soft moan, into her mouth and took his hand from hers to wrap both arms around her body, nearly tugging her off her feet as he kissed her deeper. The feeling was so new and so surprising, but so utterly exquisite, and she knew she would never get over feeling like this. While she knew it would never been brand new forever, part of her felt like it would be. Every day was a new day with new experiences; why shouldn't their relationship be the same way?

 _Do we have a relationship? Is this considering courting me? Or is this too improper?_ Yet, even if the answer to the last one was yes, she couldn't bring herself to care. She wanted him, in every way she could have him, in every way he would let her. And she had a deep feeling that she wouldn't have to beg him too hard for that to come true.

Once she ran out of oxygen, the one thing she needed even as an Immortal, she broke away from him, though his arms stayed locked around her waist and she was all too happy just to cuddle into him, her face pressed into his throat. _He smells heavenly,_ she thought almost dreamily, being none-too-conspicuous about what she was doing. She started a trail from behind his ear and down to the base of his throat. It was a cool smell, almost minty. But it was fresh and clean, the smell of rain and crisp grass filled with beautiful wildflowers. Henry had told her that vampires smelled differently than humans did, not that she went up to a lot of humans and sniffed them. And he also told her that Immortals had a rather pungent odor to vampires, which is why they were happy to agree not to feed on them as most couldn't get passed that smell to get close enough. So either Carlisle was holding his breath around her—which, admittedly, made her a bit self-conscious—or she smelled differently to him than other Immortals did.

Curious, and unable to help stop it, she pulled back some and was surprised to see his eyes closed and a content look upon his face. Once he felt her move, though, his eyes flickered open and she was surprised again to see the topaz had darkened into a caramel, but as soon as he saw her looking, it changed back to the ochre she was used to. Of course she knew that vampires' eyes turned black when hungry; is that what was happening? Was he hungry? Was she too close?

Biting her lip, she studied him for a moment, and he raised a hand to run through her dark hair.

"What is going on in this beautiful mind of yours?" he murmured, making her flush, and the action caused him to smile.

"I was just thinking of something my father told me," she said. "About when the Immortals and the Romanian vampires agreed to their truce. He said that vampires were repulsed by us because we have an...an _odor_ to us that humans do not have. Our blood is much stronger than a human's and would make a vampire that much stronger—one Immortal would equal roughly twenty humans—but most could not get around the odor to our blood." She paused as she tried to understand what he was thinking as his face changed, from curious to understanding. "Are you holding your breath because I stink to you?"

Carlisle let out the breath she had mentioned and slowly he shook his head. "No," he murmured nearly immediately after. "Annabelle, you do not have an odor. Not to me. Your mother and father...yes, I noticed it. Honestly, you do smell different than humans, but not in a bad way. It made me curious when I first met you, but I realize it was the mating call that I was smelling. I can tell the difference between you, your parents, and a human from a mile away." He paused and smiled again. "I could smell you coming from the end of the street. I was hoping you would stop by and that you were not simply on an errand for your mother." Annabelle bit her lip and stifled a giggle. Carlisle reached up and gently tugged her lip from between her teeth, shaking his head. "Please, I beg of you, sweetheart. Do not deprive me of those wonderful sounds." Another flush, another non-restrained giggle, and he smiled again as if it were the first time she did it. "Beautiful." A chaste kiss to her lips.

"I have so many questions," she murmured, her fingers running down from where they wrapped around his neck to his biceps where she clung to them.

"Then let us go upstairs. We can get some tea and I can answer all of your questions."

She smiled knowingly. "That really is a British thing then, is it not? The tea."

He raised his eyebrows, surprised, even as he smirked. "Is it that obvious? I thought I was doing well at integrating myself to the Colonial accent."

She nodded. "Oh you are. If I were anyone else, I would not have noticed. But since you are my soulmate, I notice everything about you. There are some words that still have a hint of the British accent to them. However, you do a wonderful job at the Colonial accent. Must be a vampire thing, being able to pick it up so quickly."

He looked very pleased at her words as he held out his hand and she eagerly took it. Gently he guided her through the exam room, passed the curtained-off hallway and the door at the end labeled **Operating Room** **No Admittance** , and finally up the narrow staircase to the rest of the building where he lived. "You notice everything, do you?" he wondered.

She nodded quickly, even though he couldn't see it, thanking him as he helped her through the open doorway at the top and gently shut it behind her. She paused a moment to take in his humble living quarters. It was just the top floor of the building, but for one man, she supposed he didn't need more. The kitchen was free of anything except for a tea kettle that rested on the stove. She remembered her father saying they didn't need to eat regular food, so she figured the kettle was for visitors if they ever stopped by. There was a simple sofa underneath the large picture window at the front of the building. Against the west wall was floor to ceiling bookshelves stacked high with nearly every book imaginable. There were so many that they were stacked double on each shelf, and still not all of them fit as some of them sat on the floor and the side tables by the sofa. There were a few paintings hanging on the opposite wall, ones she reminded herself to look at once she had the chance. There was a short hallway opposite the couch and she figured that took you to the bedrooms, however Henry also told her that vampires didn't need to sleep so she doubted he used it for what it was intended for.

"It is not much," he was saying, watching her look around.

She grinned and looked back, shaking her head causing a fluttering of raven strands of hair to float around her. "It is lovely," she said honestly, taking a step closer to the bookshelves. "You have more here than the village library."

"You are welcome to read anything you would like," he told her, stepping up behind her and putting his hands on her shoulders. "After all, as you said, we are soulmates. That makes everything here half yours."

Her eyes widened and she looked up at him. "But I did not earn it," she protested.

He was already shaking his head as soon as she said _"but."_ "I do not care. You are my mate, Annabelle. I will take care of you for eternity. I will protect you and guide you, and I will give you everything you have ever dreamed of."

"You already have," she said quietly and his eyes grew soft. Gently she reached for his hand and tugged him over towards the sofa. She knew that if he wanted, he could stay right there and no amount of tugging would move him; he was that strong. But he went with her, almost eagerly, and she smiled at him. Sitting them both down, she arranged her skirts, sitting so the dagger that rest against her thigh—she had nearly forgotten it was there—was not pressed uncomfortably between her skin and the couch.

"Remember when I told you that I was told of my fate on my eighteenth birthday?" she wondered. Carlisle nodded. "I was furious. My father had just told me that I was cursed to a life of loneliness, all because I was born to a certain family." She looked down and took his hand in hers, squeezing his fingers tightly. "He told me of how little of us there were left. Humans are fleeting. They born, they grow old, and they die. But I never will. How could I fall in love if everyone around me would live for a smattering of years while I would live for thousands? Look at my father. He was born in 495. He will continue to live. He was lucky, he found my mother even after the Volturi had slaughtered the rest of our people. But the other Immortals... Who knows if they are still alive, and if they are, their location is a secret. Immortals can sense each other, but only to a degree, it is not as if I could just sit here and track someone over across the Atlantic." She shook her head, glancing up as he tucked a piece of dark hair behind her ear and she smiled at him. "Vampires are the only other creatures to live forever. My father told me to hate them. Perhaps I should; they killed most of my family, and others like me. But I do not hate you. I cannot, it is impossible. I ache when I am away from you, it feels as if I am drowning and suffocating, and my heart is working too hard for my body." Another shake of her head. "You are the man I should hate, and yet you are the man I hate least in this world. I met you less than a fortnight ago, and yet already I am content with the knowledge that my previous assumptions were false. I will not be alone for eternity. I will not feel the loneliness of all those years. And that is all...because of _you_ , Carlisle Cullen. You are my forever."

Tears had gathered without her realizing it and one fell out of each eye, which he quickly caught and swiped away before they made it half-way down her cheeks. He looked to be fighting emotions as well, moisture swelled in his eyes, and he blinked it back. Without a word, he leaned forward and tenderly caught her lips, her eyes fluttering shut as their lips moved together for a few moments, before breaking once more. His thumbs caressed her skin once again, even though she was able to stop any other water from falling.

"I am very glad you did not have to experience a second of that loneliness," he finally murmured. "And I am honored and humbled to be the one who gets to show you how truly wonderful life can be."

"Carlisle, please tell me you did not wait long," she demanded ever so gently, taking his hands from her cheeks and squeezing them. Her heart ached as his eyes became troubled. "I was thinking of that for the last two days. I could do nothing but think of you. I thought of so many questions...but I also thought about the fact that you are clearly well versed in resisting human blood. After all, how could you be a doctor if you were not? Which means you have been around for awhile."

They were silent together for a few moments, Carlisle looking as if he were debating something, before he slowly nodded. "I was born in London in 1640," he whispered. "And I was turned in 1663." Her eyes widened and she gasped softly.

"You have been alone for a hundred and eleven years?" Her voice cracked as her heart broke for him. That was far too long to be alone for anyone. She remembered hurting for her father who had been alone from the sixth century up until 1620 when he meet her mother; that was around a thousand years. She ached for him, she honestly and truly did. But the feeling she got then? To hear that her soulmate, her destiny had been cursed to the same existence for over a century? She could barely contain the tears, forced back the weeping even as tears escaped her eyes.

"Do not cry for me, beautiful girl," he whispered. "Please, I cannot bear to see you cry." He caught her tears again, but instead leaned forward and kissed them away. Her hands moved to wrap around his neck and she squeezed as hard as she could, knowing he could take it.

"You never have to be alone again," she murmured, kissing his cheek and then the corner of his lips. "I promise. I will not allow it."

"My Annabelle..." And he kissed her again, deeper, desperate. He brought her onto his lap and she clung to him, their lips moving together and she let him take over, knowing that he would take care of her. But she knew she could take care of him as well, if not physically, than emotionally and mentally. She would keep her promise. She would never leave him, never allow him to feel the pain or the sting of loneliness, never again. And she told him that with her kiss, running out of oxygen and not caring, though she knew he would as he gently pulled back and didn't allow her to follow him with her lips like she wanted to.

"I am so sorry you had to wait."

He smiled gently. "I waited for you. It was worth every moment."

She softly matched his smile, her fingers lifting to run through his beautiful, wonderfully soft blond hair. They stayed like that for another few moments, just letting their emotions even out and also take comfort in one another, before he reluctantly set her on the sofa and moved to start the tea kettle boiling. She helped him by reaching for the tea cups and saucers, or at least she tried, but she knew he hadn't accounted for her presence when he unboxed and they were on the highest shelf. She huffed as she tried to jump for them, and he chuckled as he picked her up and allowed her to grab them.

"I unboxed after the first time I met you, so that was completely my fault. My apologizes, Miss Steele."

She grinned as she set her cup and saucer on the counter. "I will forgive you, Dr. Cullen, as long as you repay me with a kiss." She tapped her pink lips and he grinned, leaning in to give her a kiss.

"Forgiven?"

"Forgiven." She patted his cheek and together they went back to the couch to wait for the kettle, but also to start Annabelle's line of questioning. Frankly she didn't know where to start; there was so much to ask, and she wasn't quite sure how to even phrase some of the questions. And she didn't know whether to start with questions about him personally, vampires in general, or them. But she decided she wanted to know about things that pertained to her—which of course included his history, seeing as he was her soulmate—so she left the general vampire questions until later and decided on the most obvious, and most important one.

"You mentioned a 'mating call,'" she said, watching as his eyes flickered up to her. "What is that exactly?"

"It happens when a vampire meets their soulmate," he said, grinning as her cheeks darkened. His thumb lifted to gently and minutely stroke that crimson spot, before dropping back to his lap. "We generally just call them mates, I honestly have no idea why. But it is that feeling that you and I got when we first met. That feeling that you would do anything for that person. You would protect them and keep them safe, you would nurture them and make them grow. There was nothing about them you did not find beautiful, and in that moment, they were the most important thing in all of creation to you, the most important thing that ever has and will ever exist." He paused. "And with vampires, there is also a possessiveness. The need to make that other person the center of their universe, and their universe only, especially around the opposite gender. It is as if they are all threats, all trying to take their mate away. I believe the only exception to that would be your father, for obvious reasons." She wrinkled up her nose and nodded thoughtfully.

"I felt all of that," she confirmed and watched his eyebrow raise. "I told you already, remember? I felt that I never wanted to leave your side, and that I would never look at someone else the way I looked at you."

"Good," Carlisle grunted.

Annabelle giggled. "And I also felt the possessiveness." He smirked. "It all gets worse when we are apart. The thought of someone else hurting you, or another woman coming near you..." She trailed off, her face set in a furious glare, and he looked to be struggling between amusement, pride, smugness, and even a bit of worry.

"But you know you never have to worry about that. The universe may be cruel in some things, but it is not cruel enough to make one feel the bond and the other to not."

"Did you not say that humans could not feel it, though?"

Carlisle shrugged. "True. But it is different. It is there, but they are too weak. It would crush them in a second, especially if it were denied by one or both parties. If they were to become vampires, then it would hit them."

"So it is just hidden."

"Precisely," he said. "Yours was even more hidden then mine. And we both know how denying this almost ended." He frowned and reached down to take her hand. "It took a lot of self control to keep it contained."

"Keep the control contained?" she wondered. He hesitated for too long as she squeezed his hand. "You can tell me anything, Carlisle." Her voice was a sincere promise.

He sighed. "Well... You see me as a man, correct?" She nodded, puzzled as to where he was going with this. "And I am. However, I am still a vampire, Annabelle. There is a vampire inside me that wants out." He paused. "I call it my beast. It wants free of its cage nearly every second of the day, but over the last century, I have fought to shove it in its cell and never let it out. I suppose when I am hunting, it makes a slight appearance, but even then I am still in control of it. However, when the mating call hit me, it nearly got free. The call comes from the soul, the most basic instinct, man versus beast. The man nearly disappeared in those woods; the beast was so strong. But I think even it knew that if it broke free, you would flee in terror. And so it fought its own instinct to possess and protect and hide you away, and instead let me have control as it knew that is what you needed."

Silence drifted between them. _"The beast,"_ she thought. _It sounds like the vampires that Father told me of. It sounds like other vampires do not lock it away, they let it control them. That is why Carlisle is different, why he is so kind and compassionate. He fights his very basic nature_ — _the beast_ — _because he does not want to be a monster. And he did it for me._ Her heart grew warm again and she squeezed his hand, looking up at him softly.

"Is that why your eyes are different?" she wondered, reaching up to let her thumb drift under the light purple shadows under his eyes. He looked surprised. "Father told me vampires have red eyes. Yours are more...caramel."

He chuckled. "Precisely. The beast wants human blood. The man does not. I drink animal blood. It does not make me as strong as some vampires, but it allows me to survive." He paused. "I have never drank from a human, and I never intend to."

Annabelle smiled lovingly. "My strong, compassionate mate," she murmured. "I adore you." The tea kettle chose then to start boiling and shrieking out, making her laugh and stand to go fetch it before it boiled over. She prepared herself a cup of tea with a cube of sugar in it before settling next to him on the sofa again. "So, where were we?" she wondered as she took a tentative sip of the hot beverage.

"You were saying you adore me," he said with a happy grin.

She peeked at him and giggled. "That I did," she said.

"So it is true?"

"Very much so."

He chuckled and leaned in to steal a kiss from her. After that, any tension seemed to ease out of them, not that there was much to begin with. He answered all the questions she asked without hesitation, and she found out more information about vampires that her father hadn't known. He told her of his time with the Volturi, and she made sure he knew that she didn't blame him for the death of her family or the rest of the Immortals. _"You were not even born yet. How could you be to blame?"_ He also showed her what happened when he went into the sun, and she decided it was the most beautiful thing in the world to see. It made her want to kiss him all over, which made her blush, and then caused him to kiss her cheeks all over, then her eyelids, her nose, and finally back to her lips. They were locked in an embrace for a long while, and it wasn't until the sun started to set behind the horizon that she frowned and realized she should probably get home. Henry would probably be asleep when she got there, which she was hoping for, so she could talk to him when he was refreshed in the morning with his coffee. He would be furious, she knew, but she would use him and her mother as an example, one he couldn't refute. _What if you and mother had never met? What if I never existed?_ That would surely get to him.

"I wish you could stay," Carlisle said, his voice sad. Annabelle frowned and leaned up to kiss him, even as the weight of their separation was already heavy on her shoulders.

"I know," she murmured. "But I shall be back, no matter what my father says."

"They are your family, Annabelle. You cannot—"

"What?" she interrupted. "Disobey them? I am tired of following their rules. They already fated me to an eternity, the least they could do is allow me to live it how I want to. And I want to live it with you. They are my parents, but you are my mate. I meant what I said when I promised you that you would never be alone again. Besides, I doubt they truly expected me to stay home with only their company forever."

Carlisle was still frowning and ran a hand through her hair, but finally nodded. "I can never say no or deny you anything," he whispered, stealing one more kiss from her. "But you must go before I change my mind and allow the beast to keep you here."

She smiled coyly. "Tell the beast I will see you both tomorrow morning." He gave her a gentle smile and she turned to walk out.

At least she almost got there before she heard him call out to her. "I love you, Annabelle Steele." She froze and spun on her heel, looking back at a lovingly smiling Carlisle. Her lips parted in shock, her heart beating faster until it made her head spin, and she didn't stop herself as instinct had her running back and throwing herself into his arms.

"I love you, too, Carlisle Cullen," she whispered. He smiled broadly and spun her around, making her giggle with delight, and took yet another kiss from her lips.

"I needed you to know that before you left," he murmured. "I hope it comforts you tonight."

"It definitely will." She gave him one more smile before finally heading out the door like she had intended.

* * *

Annabelle smiled the whole way home, even though she felt the effects of their separation the moment his door closed behind her. She had wanted to rush back in, but restrained herself as she walked down Heath Row and back towards Mulberry. The ache grew, widening the hollow pit in her chest just like before, her lungs tightened, her heart sped... She hated that it was becoming more familiar to her, because she knew that all she had to do was be in his arms where she was the most content, and that ache would go away. _And I will be. For all of eternity,_ she thought excitedly. _Eternity will not be quite so bad at Carlisle's side._ She was so lost in her happy thoughts, feeling so blessed to be gifted with him, that she didn't notice the figure hovering in the living room window until it was too late.

The door in front of her swung open wide and she blinked in shock as a furious Henry Steele stood in front of her. His face was beat red, his hands fisted at his sides, and Gwendolyn hovered behind him, wringing her hands and looking nervously between her husband and daughter. For a moment they both just stood there staring at each other, Annabelle in shock and Henry breathing roughly through his nose like a bull. She expected him to stampede at any moment, but he continued to just wait until she had enough sense to speak up first.

"What is wrong, Father?" she wondered, her voice light, though she had a sinking feeling she knew what it was. Henry said nothing, did nothing, except to grab her arm and yank her inside the house. She yelped as his grip pinched and the door slammed behind her, making her wince, and immediately she regretted leaving Carlisle's apartment. She had wished they just ran away together right then and there without her being naive and thinking she could talk her father into this. If he didn't already know, when she told him the truth—and she would be a good daughter and do so—then he was surely to go ballistic.

"Where have you been?" he hissed. "And do not lie to me, girl. I spoke with Mrs. Lane who saw you walking down Heath Row."

Annabelle winced. She thought she had been so careful about avoiding the market, she never expected anyone to see her on the back streets towards Heath. Part of her wanted to roll her eyes and demand to know why he was listening to Betty Lane, but she didn't. Because she didn't want to lie to him, and because she refused to pretend Carlisle didn't exist. He was far to important to receive such a treatment.

"I was with Carlisle," she said easily, confidently, though that faded a bit as her father's face grew even more red and her mother gasped.

"Annabelle," Gwendolyn scolded and Annabelle wretched her arm out of her father's grip and ran for her mother.

"Mother, _please_ ," she begged, hoping that if Gwendolyn was on her side, then Henry would cave and allow her to see Carlisle without her resorting to drastic measures. Usually if Gwendolyn asked something of him, Henry could be talked into it. There was one thing that Henry Steele loved most in this world, and that was his wife. Annabelle knew she could never compete, and never tried to. But that didn't mean she couldn't take advantage of their bond, just as if someone wanted her to do something, all they had to do was speak of Carlisle and she would do it. "Carlisle is a _good_ man. I did not just meet him for the first time two days ago. I met him the night before I fell ill."

" _Excuse me_?!" Henry thundered, but Annabelle babbled on, her voice and hands shaking.

"He is wonderful and charming, very kind and compassionate. He cares about everybody, and he's a brilliant doctor. He's a good man."

"He is not a man. He is a vampire! He is a _monster_!" Henry yelled.

Annabelle quickly shook her head as tears pressed against her eyelids, and she begged herself not to let them free. She had to be strong. But it was against every instinct to allow her father to speak like that of him, but she had to be resourceful about this. If she wasn't careful, she would lose her parents forever, because she knew losing Carlisle just wasn't an option. She hated to think that way, never thinking that she would willingly give up her family, but that has changed ever since the mating call hit her. (She was willing to bet that Henry had felt the same for Gwendolyn had he tried to have been stopped.) Even as they yelled, she could feel that ache, and it was growing wider and more suffocating the more her father carried on, and the more she had to fight with them.

Gwendolyn looked away quickly, and Annabelle knew she was lost. Usually she took Annabelle's side, wanting to bring out that free spirit in her daughter, but not in this instance. Apparently the vampire bit was just too much and so Annabelle slowly stepped back from her, frowning in sadness and disappointment.

"Mother, please," she whimpered again and she saw a tear slip down Gwendolyn's cheek, but the older Immortal didn't say a word to either of them.

"Stop your whimpering!" Henry growled, yanking Annabelle back to his side. "You are making deals with the devil, young lady. That man is a monster. It is his kind that killed the rest of yours. He is your _enemy_."

"You are _wrong_!" she yelled. Even Henry looked shocked then; she had never yelled at him before. She had cried, she had sobbed, she had screamed, but she had never yelled in fury. It just wasn't her style. "He is a _good_ man! Just because you are too stubborn to see it does not mean there are exceptions to every rule."

"They are all the same, Annabelle. And you will never see him again."

"I am twenty-one years old! You cannot tell me what to do!"

"The hell I cannot! I am your father!"

"And I am your daughter! You are supposed to help me and support my decisions."

"I would, but anything except this. I refuse."

Annabelle's body trembled, her lip quivering, but she was set. Either she would make him believe that she was leaving and he would cave, or she would lose them both forever. She had to steal herself for that one, because the idea of losing her parents made her want to fall to her knees. But the idea of losing Carlisle made her want to die—no, she knew she _would_ die—so she had to pick the weaker poison of the two. It would hurt, and it would continue to hurt for a very long time, but she could move on. She would have Carlisle. But she knew, deep down in her soul, there would never be moving on from Carlisle. Her soul wouldn't allow it; it would kill her first. Even considering the notion made her dizzy, her body ache, her heart nearly stop beating, her lungs protest.

"Fine then," she said quietly, evenly, calmly. "Then I have no choice." She glanced between them. "Goodbye, Father. Mother." She spun on her heel and marched for the door, begging them silently with each heavy step, feeling the shock radiating from them behind her.

"You would leave us for a man you met less than a fortnight ago?" her father demanded, his voice not quite as strong as it had been moments before, as her hand fluttered over the doorknob. "Has he really brainwashed you so easily?"

"He has not brainwashed me," she whispered, not turning around. "He has made me feel alive for the first time in my life. Unlike you, he does not want me to spend eternity alone. I will be at his side."

"You are a fool, Annabelle. He will get you killed."

"No. He is my soulmate. He will protect me as I will him."

"So your mother and I mean nothing to you." She winced. He knew that would hurt her and that's why he said it.

"You mean everything to me," she whispered. "I just wish I meant the same to you."

And with that, she turned the knob and wretched the door open, not waiting for a response as she slammed it shut and fled down the steps. It was like feelings were warring inside her. The ache of separation from Carlisle lessened the closer to Heath Row that she got, but the stronger the feeling of abandonment felt the further from her home she went. Part of her regretted not going up and fetching her quilt and some other items first—such as her fairytales—but she supposed she could replace them. It wasn't worth sticking around there if there would be more arguing and more berating of her feelings. _Foolish girl,_ she sneered to herself. _Father never would have allowed you to see him. How did you ever think that you could talk sense into such a stubborn man? You should have left earlier, and maybe you could have preserved some sort of relationship with your parents._

Blindly, she turned down Heath Row. She hadn't realized she was sobbing until her disturbed vision caused her to stumble over a loose cobblestone and fall to her knees on the street, crying out softy as the harsh road met her roughly. She wept softly, not being able to move as wave after wave of confusion, fear, hopelessness, and sadness crashed over her. It was like she was drowning in impossible illness all over again.

Soft, cool hands were on her shoulders a moment later and she gasped, her gaze snapping up quickly only to meet Carlisle's frightened and distressed topaz hues. He was speaking, at least she thought he was, his mouth was moving, but there was a ringing in her ears left over from her weeping that kept her from hearing him properly. Instead she just blinked out more tears, shook her head even though it probably made no sense, and then just threw herself into his arms and cried into his collar. He caught her easily and tenderly, immediately lifting to his feet and cradling to her chest as he hurried them back to his office. He didn't stop in the exam room, just moved them upstairs to his personal quarters and set her ever so gently upon the sofa, leaving only to come back with a blanket, tissues, and a cool, damp rag to put over her forehead.

* * *

She hadn't even realized she had fallen asleep until she woke up to the morning sun, a terrible aching headache, and the cold clutches of despair at her chest. And yet the beautiful man beside her seemed to immediately make it feel less painful as she moaned softly and struggled to sit up, quietly thanking him as he moved behind her and sat her against his chest. He didn't seem to mind her leaning all her weight against him, in fact he welcomed it, softly running his fingers through her raven locks as she woke up, yawning and stretching lightly and rubbing at her puffy, red-rimmed eyes.

"I must look horrible," she mumbled, knowing her cheeks were probably stained from the salty water and wishing she had some cool water to splash in her face and hopefully get rid of the tears, as well as her brush to get rid of the nest that her hair had become. She tried with her fingers, but it didn't do as good of a job as she hoped, making her frown.

"Never," he murmured. "You are the most beautiful woman in all of creation, Annabelle."

She managed a forced laugh and a sniffle before slowly she leaned her head back against his shoulder to look up at him, but she sort of wished she didn't once she saw his face. The look he gave her broke her heart, making tears come to her eyes once more and she forced back the need to weep. He looked so sad, and it made it even worse to know she was the cause of it. She truly hadn't meant to make him feel that way. _Together for less than a day, and already it looks as if I ripped his heart out,_ she thought bitterly.

"Please do not look at me like that," she begged in a soft whimper. "I cannot bear to see you sad."

Carlisle sighed and leaned forward to rest his forehead against her shoulder. Her fingers moved to delve into his hair. "That goes for two of us, my dear," he whispered. "And you are hurt."

She looked at him confused before his fingers moved to her arms. She looked down, eyes widening when she saw light purple bruises on her left forearm and wrist in the shape of fingers. Her palms were both scratched up, and she felt as if her knee was bruised as well. For a moment she had no clue how those appeared, but then she faintly remembered falling on the cobblestones once she turned onto Heath Row. She wasn't sure if it was the scratches or the bruises that made him so tense, but Carlisle was frozen behind her and she turned ever so slightly to rest her head against his shoulder.

"I am okay," she whispered.

"Your father," he murmured, his voice a cold calm that made her want to comfort him more. His fingers gently touched the bruises and she knew what he was asking. Silently she nodded. "Every instinct is telling me I should confront him about hurting you. But I realize he probably did not mean to harm you." She shook her head. "He was angry." She hesitated before nodding, wondering what she should say to him. But she couldn't lie, and so she told him everything that happened.

"Father told me that you will get me killed." Carlisle stiffened. "He told me I was a fool. He said you brainwashed me. He laid guilt on me by saying that he and Mother did not mean anything to me." She paused and sniffled. "But he did not understand when I said you are my soulmate. Maybe I am a fool. But only because I was foolish to believe he could change. He is too stubborn." She sniffled again. "I choose you, Carlisle. I will always choose you."

He looked up again then, his eyes still haunted, but slowly he nodded. She could see he didn't quite accept it, but she knew it wasn't because he didn't want her there. It was because he didn't want her to give up her family for him, and frankly that just made her love him even more. He was such a selfless man, and not just because she was his mate. He cared about everyone, and it hurt her even worse to know that he was hurting because of it. He shouldn't be.

"We cannot stay here," he said gently and she nodded silently, allowing it to wash over them for a few minutes. As much as it hurt, she knew he was right. They couldn't stay, not with her parents just a few streets over, and they were sure to try getting some of the town involved. The last thing she wanted done is for Carlisle to be hunted down like a common criminal, because she knew darn well her father wouldn't put that upon her shoulders. However, he would take her home and lock her in her room if he had the chance, though neither jailing Carlisle or locking her away would last long. Nothing would be strong enough to keep Carlisle locked inside.

"I know," she whispered. "What if—" She stopped, looking away for a moment because her idea was stupid, but he gently brought her face back to him with soft fingers on her chin.

"What?" he pressed quietly.

She sighed. "What if we hide out in my cave for the day, and at twilight, we can leave? It is early enough now that nobody will see us moving through the village, and the sun is not fully awake. And at twilight, we can get a carriage and find somewhere new, just for us. We could find a carriage big enough to fit your belongings, or lock up and send for them later." She paused. "I just... I am hoping that we can somehow get into my—" She stopped again, and fought for a moment to restarted. "—my _parents'_ home. I would love the quilt my mother gave me and a couple of books. But if we cannot, I understand."

"We will," he insisted, sealing the promise with a tender kiss. "And I love your idea. It is dark and nobody knows of it, right?" She nodded in confirmation. "We can send for all this. A smaller carriage will bring less attention. We shall just bring our clothing."

She frowned. "I suppose I should get that, too."

"Do your parents sleep early?"

She nodded. "As soon as it is dark."

"Then we can get in then. Or rather I can, I would rather you wait outside for me with the carriage. Tell me what you would like and I shall grab it for you. I could be much quicker and quieter that way."

She gave him a small smile. "Are you call me slow and loud?"

He hesitated, a small grin of his own appearing along with a chuckle, and she relished in it. "Not exactly..." he hedged, though she knew he was. But that was okay, because she knew she was, even as small as she was. But she trusted him to get what she needed and get out without waking Gwendolyn or Henry.

She giggled. "I love you, Carlisle," she murmured then.

He sighed, almost agonized, as he pressed his forehead to hers. "I love you, too, Annabelle."


	4. And to Hold

**-Rural New York Six Months Later-  
-Annabelle-**

The day finally arrived, and Annabelle didn't ever remembering being as nervous as she was right then. Not that she was having second thoughts, of course. She knew from the moment she met him that they would have eternity and none of that would change no matter what they did or who came along. In the six months since Annabelle had been away from her parents, it had been scary and terrifying and confusing, and oh so wonderful. Carlisle was patient and loving, so careful with her, and yet had shown her so much passion that she was absolutely full of it, so consumed by it that she felt it every waking moment, felt it every single time she breathed, every single time that she looked into those beautiful topaz eyes. And today was the day she would take one step further into forever with him: she was going to become Mrs. Annabelle Cullen.

When he had asked her, she cried for hours all the while kissing him everywhere she could reach. And yet there was an ache that wouldn't quite go away, because she knew there would be two very important people missing from that day. Carlisle didn't get the chance to ask her father for her hand, and he wouldn't be walking her down the aisle. Her mother wouldn't be there to help her into her dress, pin up her hair, or arrange her bouquet. When she was growing up, all of that was very important to her, and she always pictured her most perfect wedding with a loving fiance and a huge feast with the whole village and her parents smiling at her happily from the front row.

The feast wouldn't be happening, but she knew none of that really mattered. And while she still wished her parents were there, she knew that she had the most loving and amazing fiance to ever exist and she couldn't really ask for more than him. She was blessed with him, gifted with an eternity of happiness and love, and who was she to look a gifted horse in the mouth? He was everything to her. _Everything._ And as much as she gave up, it was worth it all to have forever with the man of her dreams, the love of her life.

"Are you almost ready, Miss Steele?"

The voice of the pastor's wife caused her to startle out of her thoughts and spin around on her spot in front of the mirror. She held a hand to her fluttering heart as she faced Mrs. Wesley, smiling at the older woman kindly. Since Annabelle had no one—she and Carlisle had both told the couple they were orphans—Mrs. Wesley had taken it upon herself to fill in for her mother. She had helped Annabelle into her skirts and tighten up the bodice. The dress itself was all white, the skirts large and poofy around her legs. It V-ed slightly at her chest, and the sleeves were long and flared out at her elbow. Her hair was pulled back into a simple bun with some pretty purple flowers on the right side, tucked behind her ear and clipped in. She had a small bouquet of white and pink flowers, and when Mrs. Wesley wasn't looking, she hid her silver dagger in her thigh sheath just like always. She felt naked without it, and felt safer with it, even though she knew Carlisle could protect her better than any dagger could.

"Yes, Mrs. Wesley," she said kindly as she finished straightening out the wispy strands of hair around her face and grabbed for her bouquet that sat in a vase off to the side. "Are Carlisle and Pastor Wesley ready as well?"

The woman nodded. "Fredrick will be walking you down the aisle. Carlisle is already there with the pastor and I shall be playing the piano." Fredrick was their nineteen-year-old son that offered to help in whatever way he could, so she agreed with Mrs. Wesley to allow him to walk with her. She would miss her father, but she supposed walking with Fredrick would be better than walking alone.

"Thank you so much for everything you have done," Annabelle said, reaching out to gently hug the woman. "Carlisle and I very much appreciate all of your wonderful hospitality."

"The pleasure is mine, dear. You two are alone and I would simply loathe myself if I did not help you out. This day should be with family, and it hurts me that you both have none."

Annabelle gave her a sad smile. "I as well," she whispered, tears shimmering in her gaze.

"No tears," the woman insisted, waving a hand in front of Annabelle's face and then her own, laughing softly. "Now, let us go and get you two kids married, shall we?"

Annabelle grinned and nodded eagerly, her heart somersaulting around in her chest before jumping up into her throat. _This is it,_ she thought excitedly. _I am about to become Mrs. Cullen!_ It was the best sounding thing in the world, Annabelle Cullen. It was who she was meant to be, Carlisle's mate and wife. _Wife! I shall be Carlisle's wife and he shall be my husband and we will be happy together for all of eternity._ It wasn't for the first time in the past six months that she was happy that eternity was possible for them. One lifetime together didn't seem like enough. She could've been cursed with loneliness or a cruel man, but she had this kind and compassionate person that would give every part of his venom and body and soul to keep her safe and happy. She couldn't ask for more.

Fredrick met them right outside the room they were using to change and Annabelle's hand shook as he tucked it into his elbow. "Do not be nervous, ma'am," he murmured to her and she softly smiled at him as Mrs. Wesley quickly scurried around them to bustle in and take her place at the piano. The music began immediately and Annabelle's breath got caught in her throat as the church workers at the doors nodded to Fredrick who waved a quick hand and they parted to allow them into the chapel. It was on the small side, only seating roughly thirty to forty parishioners at the most, but that's exactly what the couple wanted. Well, not that there was anybody else there, since they didn't have or need anyone else. They wanted something small and quiet so Carlisle had drove their carriage up through the Colonies—obviously careful to avoid active war zones—and found the first small church that caught their eye. Saint Mary's Parish was lovely and so Annabelle begged him to stop there, which he whole-heartedly agreed to.

At the front stood Pastor Wesley, a man knocking on fifty. He and Mrs. Wesley had seven kids together between the ages of thirty-one and Fredrick coming in last at nineteen. Truthfully, Annabelle wanted children when she was younger, but now that she had Carlisle, it was the furthest thing from her mind as she knew vampires couldn't have children. Plus, she couldn't imagine having seven of them. All she needed was Carlisle.

 _And there he is,_ she thought dreamily as finally her cerulean gaze settled on the blond man just to the right of the pastor. It seemed that he was mesmerized by something, something so utterly breathtaking as he let his guard drop and was still as a statue, chest not moving in breath, staring down the aisle at them. And for the life of her she couldn't figure out what it was he was staring at so intently and almost looked behind her, but realized just a moment later that his eyes weren't looking just at her and Fredrick, they were looking just at _her_. Topaz gaze wide with wonder and adoration, and almost incredulousness that made Annabelle's body flush, her cheeks tinging red enough that it made a smile curve at the corner of his lips. It was truly a beautiful sight and Annabelle nearly floated down the rest of the aisle to her soon-to-be husband.

Fredrick quickly put her hand in Carlisle's, who eagerly took it and pulled her close to his body, though not inappropriately so. Still, it felt like it was too far away from him as she was so eager to be close to him, eager to finally be Mrs. Annabelle Cullen and be able to be with him in all of the ways she wanted. She was ready for that, ready to give herself to him in the ways a wife should, and ready to take what he had to offer. She wanted a life with him, and what a life it would be. The two of them in forever, how could she really ask for more?

"Dearly beloved..." the pastor began, and though Annabelle heard each of his words and filed it away for later, she couldn't seem to concentrate on anything except for Carlisle. The nice, white coat that he had on complemented his skin and hair perfectly, and also matched the dress that she wore. She had managed to keep her dress a secret from him, even though they didn't take part in the tradition of the groom not seeing the bride before the wedding—there wasn't a possible way to considering they were traveling up until then—and she delighted in the way his eyes scanned over her body quickly, too fast for any of the humans to pick it up.

"—I, Annabelle Steele," the pastor said and she realized with a start she zoned out, thinking far too much about the man whose hands she was squeezing and not the pastor. She held back a giggle at the smirk on Carlisle's face, and cleared her throat to repeat after Pastor Wesley.

"I, Annabelle Steele, take you, Carlisle Cullen, for my lawful husband. To have and to hold from this day forward. For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and health. Forever and always."

They had asked him to change the _"until death do we part"_ to _"forever and always"_ as it seemed much more fitting. They wouldn't be dying, so why would they vow it? Forever was theirs and they vowed that to each other from the moment Annabelle decided that her place was by Carlisle's side and not under the stern hand of her father. She would always love and miss her parents, but she knew where she belonged.

Her heart squeezed as she listened to the next few words, a couple Bible verses that Carlisle picked out just for this, and then it was his turn to speak. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited for him to begin, her hands tightening ever so slightly as if he were going to just slip out from under her fingers in the few moments before he said his lines. But deep down she always wondered if there was a mistake; why would God and the universe want a girl like her to be made for a man like him? And yet she was too selfish to give any of it up. She accepted it, and she could see there in his wonder-filled, incredulous eyes that he did as well. The way he gazed at her, the excitement... It made her feel like the most precious and beautiful girl in the world.

"I, Carlisle Cullen, take you, Annabelle Steele, for my lawful wife. To have and to hold from this day forward. For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and health. Forever and always."

Annabelle let out a breath as Fredrick came closer with the rings. Her hand shook slightly as she gingerly pushed the bronze band onto his finger. They weren't wealthy by any means, nothing like what Henry Steele had been, but they had enough to pay the Wesleys for the wedding, donate a little to the church, and get their rings made. His was bronze with various designs carved into the metal. Hers was also bronze and thinner than his and the designs along it matched his nearly perfectly, as much as they could considering the thicknesses of each. But they were perfect for each of them; they made sure to get styles that would fit what they liked, but at the same time be very unique and match each other, which meant they belonged to each other. Of course they knew that without the rings, but they both liked the symbolism of them.

Carlisle was next, taking her hand softly and pressing the cool metal around her left ring finger. His hand encased her much smaller one, their rings glinting off the candle light, and she couldn't stop the happy tears that welled up within her eyes or the way love seemed to squeeze every inch of her body. Tears that would never be shed glittered in his gaze as they stared at each other, just moments away from finally becoming husband and wife.

"By the power vested in me by God and the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife." He grinned. "You may kiss the bride."

"Finally," Carlisle murmured, just loud enough for Annabelle to hear and she giggled softly. He moved a step closer to her, his arm wrapping around her waist to bring her flush against his chest, and he leaned down to capture her lips in a soft kiss. She could tell he wanted to deepen it, but this was neither the time nor place to do so. Still, his lips didn't come apart from hers until they were good and ready, grins stretched over both of their faces as they gazed lovingly upon each other. All three of the Wesleys clapped and Annabelle giggled once again.

"I present to you: Dr. and Mrs. Carlisle Cullen!" the paster exclaimed and Annabelle's entire body tingled with warmth. _Mrs. Cullen,_ she thought dreamily as Carlisle stole one more kiss from her, profusely thanked the family for helping them and handed over a payment much larger than the one agreed upon—that was Carlisle, for you—and lead Annabelle out of the church. As they stepped outside into the setting sun and crossed to the other side of their carriage away from the prying eyes of the Wesleys, he took her in his arms once again, and kissed her as she knew he had wanted to a few moments before. Deeply, passionately, lovingly. Annabelle hummed, keeping her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and she couldn't keep the grin away from her face.

They were Mr. and Mrs. Cullen, a truly married couple under the eyes of the law and the eyes of God, and she had never been happier.

* * *

**-Philadelphia, Pennsylvania Five Years Later-**

Annabelle groaned for what seemed like the thousandth time as she curled up on the bed with an extremely worried Carlisle hovering next to her. She had been ill on and off for the past month, usually with bouts of sickness in the early hours of the morning and the late hours of the night. It started with intense nausea before finally she expelled everything she had eaten—or attempted to, anyway—leaving her exhausted and covered in a fine layer of sweat. While she was glad that it wasn't constant, the fact that it was happening so often seriously worried her. _It cannot be anything serious like cancer,_ she thought as another wave of nausea hit her and she buried her face in her sweat-dampened pillow. Immortals simply didn't get ill like that. In fact, they shouldn't even be able to get something as simple as a, that's why her parents had been so worried five years previously, and why this new sickness shouldn't be happening then.

It had been five years since they had vowed their forever together, and hardly one moment of it was spent apart. He showed her around the colonies and kept her close by during the war, which was still raging in parts of the slowly developing country. Carlisle had offered his skills during some of the battles as a field doctor. And while they both knew none of those bullets could hurt her, he refused to let her near the action and so she had been confined to their home whenever he was away. It was a bit tedious, but she was able to busy herself with work like cleaning and cooking (though only small meals for herself, unless they had company, which was incredibly rare) and making sure that his private practice was still running as smooth as possible. He worked there during the day when the sun was out, and worked the battlefields at night. Since he didn't need to sleep, he could go straight through until morning. In between his shifts, he spent the moments with her up in their private quarters, either reading together or watching her sew or finding some other things that they both discovered they found quite pleasurable.

But when this new illness hit Annabelle, he had sent his patients both in private and on the battlefield to other doctors and tended to his wife with loving care and worry. He knew as well as she did that this shouldn't be possible, so she was sure he was even more worried than she was as she curled more in on herself, laying her hand over her stomach in hopes the slight pressure would ease it. It had been going on for about an hour and she could tell something would be coming up soon as she felt a small fluttering under her palm. Her whole body was sore, even her breasts, and she was tired of living of soup and crackers.

"It will go away soon," she murmured after another groan, patting his hand. "Do not fret, my darling."

But of course, he just looked even more worried. "I cannot help it," he whispered as he pressed a cool, damp cloth to her forehead. It felt good when he did that. "Please, I know you have done it many times, but tell me your symptoms once again. Then you should sleep and I will consult my books."

She sighed softly, but nodded and listed them off, including the way she could feel her stomach fluttering and churning, and the fact that every inch of her body ached. When she mentioned her sore breasts, he seemed to stiffen and she saw the wheels in his head churning. She frowned as she watched him lose all resemblance of humanness that he put on for her, though she told him countless times over the past half-decade that he didn't need to do that. Still, to watch as his body went still as a statue and his ochre eyes slowly fade to granite, it made her frown and shift a bit.

"What is it, dear?" she wondered, hand reaching for his. It seemed her touch snapped him out of it and he blinked, smiling softly.

"Nothing, Anna. I believe it is nothing, but I shall go read up on it. You sleep and we shall talk again once you wake, alright?"

She didn't look convinced, but nodded nonetheless and leaned in so he could press a kiss to her lips. _At least I do not have to worry about getting him sick,_ she thought wryly. Yawning slightly, she brought the blankets up over her head and brought her knees up closer to her chest, letting the pressure against her stomach take away the nausea as she drifted off into sleep. It didn't feel like it was all that long, floating ever so slightly passed that point of consciousness, before cool hands woke her up again. She groaned and her eyelids fluttered open, brows furrowing as she took in the intense gaze that her husband was giving her.

"It is the only explanation," he was murmuring and she realized she had missed part of what he had said to her. She blinked and, if possible, his face was even paler than usual as he waited for her to react.

"...what?" she murmured, slowly untangling herself from the blankets and her limbs, carefully moving in case the nausea hit, and Carlisle surprised her by shooting his hands forward and arranging her body himself. "What is wrong?" Carlisle took a deep breath, letting it go in one shaky burst and it made Annabelle even more nervous. "Carlisle, please."

"It is the only explanation," he repeated, hand settling over hers at the same time he gently pulled her close to his chest. "But it does not make any sense."

His words seemed almost like he was talking more to himself than to her, and she sighed. "Carlisle," she said one more, a bit more insistent than she had been, her voice shaking.

He looked down at her, fingers running through her raven hair softly as he ran them down her jaw to her chin, lifting her face up to look at him. His gaze was sober and, to her surprise, terrified as those topaz hues searched over her, finally landing on her cerulean ones. Lips parted a couple times to say something, but nothing came out, and she was becoming even more and more increasingly worried. Her heart started beating louder and the cole sweat broke out along her brow once again. But he was already using his other hand to comfort her, his inner beast already sensing its mate in trouble, so his other hand lifted to her stomach where he gently caressed her over the soft fabric of her gown.

"I believe—" He paused, opened his mouth and closed it once more, before sighing. "—Annabelle, I believe you are pregnant." Eyes going wide, heart pounding quicker, she felt herself stop breathing, her entire body stop moving as she stared at him. If it weren't for the fact that he was a doctor and her husband, and not the type of man to joke at times like this, she would've laughed right in his face. Wasn't that very impossible? But he was dead serious, his face ashen and full of resolve.

Quickly she looked down to where his hand lay over her and she realized that it was for more than just her comfort. Suddenly the little flutter she felt in there was more than just the roll of her stomach in nausea. The nausea was morning sickness resulted from the heightened hormones her body was getting. And her breasts being tender were because they were growing as they produced milk.

 _Oh my gosh,_ she thought in confused, terrified wonder. _I am pregnant._

"I thought that was not possible," she whispered, her voice betraying those very emotions.

It was he who frowned next, his head shaking for a moment as his grip on her chin changed so he was gently stroking the tops of a couple fingers along her jawline.

"It should not be," he whispered. "I have never heard of it happening." He paused. "But I suppose that makes sense because Immortals have been thought to exist for over a millennia. If it has happened, all the records are non-existent for one reason or another."

"And humans would be too weak, I would think," Annabelle sad. "After all, if they cannot handle the emotions from a mating call, how are they to handle something physical like a vampire fetus?"

Carlisle stayed silent then even as he nodded, and she just turned her face to press against his shoulder. While they had no real way of knowing if it were true, and no way of knowing how it would effect her body, she couldn't deny the fact that she was secretly thrilled. She had given up those wishes when she married him, but never thought she was missing out on anything. She had him forever, and that was all she needed. But now? Now there was a hope that she could have this child, that she could have something that she so desperately wanted since she was little, back when she was naive enough to believe she was just human. She was ever so glad that she wasn't because if she was, to be with him she would've had to have changed, and then this couldn't have happened. Because she was pregnant. She was having a baby.

She pressed her face against Carlisle's shoulder harder, unable to stop the smile there, and she could tell he noticed it because she heard him chuckle softly.

"I cannot believe we are going to be parents," he murmured to her. She giggled softly.

"Me either," she whispered. He moved his fingers back to her chin and gently lifted it up to him, giving her a tender kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Outfits for chapter four: 
> 
> \- [Wedding](http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=220335104)


	5. Three Loves

**-Boston, Massachusetts, Six Months Later, December 1780-  
-Annabelle-**

"Carlisle, it _hurts_!"

The scream echoed through the small house and Annabelle could see her husband wince out of the corner of her eye, but her attention was drawn mostly to the child that was going to make its way into the world very shortly. Carlisle was definitely right in his diagnosis from six months ago, there was no doubt about that. Slowly the nausea and sickness had went away, but it was replaced by backaches and foot cramps. But truthfully, Annabelle decided she loved the sensation of being pregnant, of watching her belly grow as her children did. And Carlisle always liked to put his hand there to feel their baby move around. It always put a smile on his face, lighting up in the wonder way that only a new father-to-be could. He was always so worried because of the unknown—as a doctor, he never dealt with pregnancies, plus this baby was a vampire-Immortal hybrid—but neither of them could deny how wonderful the prospect of new parenthood was.

The baby grew so quickly, too, and they both knew that it wouldn't be the regular human gestation rate of nine months. She could have only been a month or two along when they found out, but when the six month mark hit, she just new deep inside that it would be that month that she had her baby. It was just two weeks later that she woke up with the pain, crying out loudly and bringing her husband right to her side. That had been six hours ago, and the feelings got more and more intense, now a constant pain rather than coming and going. It was something she had never experienced in her life, like her body was splitting in two, and all she wanted to do was sleep. But she couldn't, every time she tried, it just got worse and worse until she screamed again.

Unfortunately there was nothing Carlisle could do at the moment. Any type of medicine could be dangerous and so she worked through the pain, panting on her bed as she let him check her progress. It felt like she should be ready, but according to him she was only half way there and she whimpered, head falling back against her pillows. She knew as much as she begged, he couldn't make it go faster.

"I know, my love," he whispered, pushing some damp hair off her forehead. "Just a little bit longer."

"You said that three bloody hours ago!" she snapped and then winced, but he simply smiled and kissed her forehead. It wasn't the first nor would it be the last time she snapped at him like that. He told her it was just the hormones after she sobbed her apology the first time. It had never effected her like that, not in any of the six months. It gave her other emotions and feelings, like a more intense need to cry or the heightened need to be with him, but the anger never hit her until she went into labor.

"I promise you that it will all go away soon. And we will have our little baby." He smiled. "Do you remember the names we chose?"

She sighed and nodded, opening her mouth so he could give her a bit of water. "Of course," she whispered. Her lips parted, ready to tell him, but another loud cry left her lips before she could, her back arching as another contraction ran through her.

* * *

Four more hours went by before anything else happened, and finally she was able to push. It was the hardest thing she ever had to do physically, which was saying something considering she left behind her parents. Over the months she had thought about what their reaction would be to her having a child that was half-vampire, whether they would be disgusted by the notion or thrilled for having a grandchild. She truly hoped it would be the latter, but it was far too late to ask them that considering she knew they weren't even in Virginia anymore. Three years previously, Carlisle had sent a request to an acquaintance he met on one of the battlefields, Garrett. He was also a vampire, and a new one at that, but was too patriotic to give up fighting no matter how much the call of blood ate at him. Carlisle requested Garrett look in on Henry and Gwendolyn Steele, but their house was boarded up and hadn't been lived in for quite some time. That made Annabelle ache, to know she didn't even know where they were, but she knew it was her own choice. And she also knew they left because Carlisle was a vampire and he knew where they were, and they didn't trust him. That hurt even worse.

It was the nice thought of her parents and the thought of _finally_ holding her baby in her arms that allowed Annabelle to focus solely on giving birth rather than the pain of not having her mother's help. If Carlisle weren't a doctor he wouldn't have been there, but she was ever glad that he was. She knew she couldn't do it without him. It was with his help that she pushed and pushed and pushed until finally, a loud, tiny cry sounded through the room.

"A boy," Carlisle said in wonder as he looked down at the squalling infant in his arms. Annabelle was sobbing, watching her husband wrap the boy up in a small blanket, before he handed him over to his mother. She sniffled and, she didn't think it was possible, but her heart grew even larger to welcome this new tiny life into her world. These boys were her world. _My boys_ , she thought dreamily. She sniffed again, her hand shaking as she raised to run across his tiny back. Carlisle helped quickly with finishing up as she said hello to her son. _My son..._

"He is so beautiful," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Hello, my love. My beautiful little—" She let out a loud cry.

"Annabelle?!" Carlisle's voice was alarmed and he quickly took the baby, setting the wailing infant inside the small crib he made him. Annabelle looked at him in panic and then the need to push hit her again.

"I need to push," she panted out and he frowned. She didn't understand; the baby was already there, why was she pushing again? What was happening? Her eyes were large and full of fear, clutching her blankets as he heart pounded and broke at the sound of her beloved little son wailing on the other side of the room. "Where is my baby?"

Carlisle didn't say anything, just worked quickly around, blurring around the room as he went between checking on their son to figuring out what was going on with her. But Annabelle listened to her body, deciding to push when she felt like she needed it, and yet couldn't read the emotions that were on his face. Her heart pounded, her lungs aching as she tried to distinguish between all the different emotions that she was feeling. Her whole body trembled, and she was trying to push and sit up at the same time. "Carlisle, please," she whimpered, crying out again.

"I see the head crowning," he finally said, his voice full of awe and shock.

" _What_?!" she shrieked, trying to sit up yet again, but Carlisle gently eased her back down.

More pushing, more screaming, and then there was another little bundle that landed in Carlisle's arms. She was even tinier than her brother, her lungs even larger as she wailed her tiny little heart out. Annabelle was even more exhausted, her body finally calming down as instincts told her that she was finally done, able to rest. Her heart beat loudly in her ears, nearly breaking her ribcage open with the frantic beat, her lungs rising and falling quickly, but she didn't pay any mind as she looked between the small girl that Carlisle held and the tiny boy that was now only whimpering in his crib.

"Twins," Carlisle murmured, looking between his wife and daughter as venom tears shimmered in his eyes and a large smile split his face as if he couldn't stop. Crocodile tears were falling over and over again down her face and she let out a whimper, reaching for them. Carlisle set the baby girl on her chest while he took his turn with their son.

"I had no idea," she said in a whisper, fingers running over her tiny back. She seemed to cry even harder, so together they switched the babies and they both calmed down, making Annabelle giggle as she sniffed back at her happy tears.

 _Well we can see who will be wrapped around whose finger,_ she thought wryly. Cerulean eyes looked back and forth between her husband and daughter, and then down to her son. Her heart swelled even more; she had no idea she could hold this much love inside her. And she knew that nobody was taking the place of another. Annabelle still loved her parents and they were there, though she had to force herself to push that aside to save her heart anymore ache. But Carlisle was also there, not taking their place by any means, but filling a spot all his own she had never expected to be filled, the one of true love. And now? These squirming little bundles of soft white blankets were opening her heart even wider, giving her an ache that felt absolutely wonderful. It wasn't the love of a daughter or the love of a wife, but the love of a mother and she realized it had been there all along. It had been created when she was little, made itself known six months previously when Carlisle realized the truth of her ailment, and now that her children where there, it was finally filled in a way she never thought possible. She never knew she could love so much.

"Now we can use both of our names," Carlisle said with a light chuckle as he sat next to her on the bed. The tiny boy was yawning, curling up against his mother's chest as he let his sleep come over him. But the baby girl? Her eyes were large, looking all over their house as if the wonders of the world waited for her. And they did, they definitely did, because she knew that they would show world to their children. Carlisle already promised her that when they married, now that they had these little bundles of joy, they wouldn't stop for one moment. After all, the world was always changing.

Annabelle nodded softly and kissed the soft dark hair on the top of her son's head, and then the equally dark hair on her daughter's. "We can," she said excitedly. "I am so happy, Carlisle." She sighed and leaned up for a kiss from him, a content smile across her face as she looked between her children.

"Welcome to the world, Mary Alice Cullen and Emmett McCarty Cullen."

* * *

**-A Year and a Half Years Later, June 1782-**

For the first year of their lives, Annabelle and Carlisle only moved them once, and that was into a slightly larger house that was farther away from any town or village. It would be hard enough to keep the existence of themselves a secret let alone that of the children. They knew right away that little Emmett and Alice—as they decided to call her, though they kept her full name—were special. They grew like human children just as Annabelle did, but they hit milestones sooner. They were walking by six months, speaking at eight months. They had a full mouth full of baby teeth at one year and the loved their mother's cooking. However, they weren't normal human children, which was obvious even if the couple hadn't been there when they were born. While they did eat human food, most of the time they ate blood. They didn't hunt or anything—Annabelle wouldn't have let them even if they could—so Carlisle would put it in bottles to bring home for them. They needed the blood to survive, but not the human food, however they could eat it if they wanted to. The more of the blood they ate, the less blue their eyes were, taking on hints of gold just like their father. She knew that if they took the blood-only diet, the blue would probably disappear completely, but there were things that they both liked that let her know they wouldn't be doing so anytime soon.

As a doctor, Carlisle did a lot of checking on their health and biology. It was discovered that the more they grew, the slower their hearts eat. At the time they were one years old, their hearts only beat about thirty to forty beats per minute as opposed to Annabelle's hundred, which was slightly more than the average human's. They had no idea if the silver could kill them, but it wasn't like they were about to try it out. Their skin, however, did have the same paleness that Carlisle's did and was just as hard. The parents could only wait and see when they would stop aging; as half-vampire, half-Immortal, they would without a doubt stop aging at some point, and Annabelle had a feeling it would be similar to her own, as she had stopped at age twenty-two or twenty-three, making her look the same age as her husband. It was hard to find out for sure since they were so close. She still looked younger than her parents had, but then again, she had grown up a lot quicker than them and she was surprised she hadn't stopped aging at eighteen when she found out her truth.

At ten months old, Alice fell over a log when running after Emmett and cut her knee. Apparently it didn't hurt her because she didn't cry, but she did bleed, looking at the crimson liquid coming out of her skin with wonder. It was gone just a minute later, but Annabelle had fretted the whole time. That answered some of their questions which made them wonder if that meant the silver would work, though they didn't say it out loud, just shared a panicked look. When the time came, they would be telling their kids the truth, but until then, they would keep an extra eye on them. There was no silver in the house other than the dagger that Annabelle still always kept sheathed on her thigh.

It was also clear to them that their children were special, and not just by the methods of being half-vampire, half-Immortal. Alice had told them a couple times of things that would happen before they did. Emmett would walk up to tables or chairs and move them out of the way for his mother as she dusted and mopped. Soon those things became normal to them, and so Emmett would help her clean around the house while Alice would help Carlisle with their money. It's not as if she knew what things meant, but she would sit and think about which one he should pick on the paper. They figured it would get even better once she understood it all—which Annabelle knew would be a lot sooner than most people—and because of that, they were able to get a bigger carriage, a couple more horses, and enough money to leave just as they wanted to. The parents knew Alice's visions came from her vampiric side. Carlisle told Annabelle that some vampires had special abilities, but Annabelle had never heard either of her parents mention that being a factor, so they attributed it to Carlisle's DNA in their veins. They also assumed Emmett's strength was the same, though not quite an obvious _"gift"_ as Alice's visions.

Over the years, they had been through all of the Colonies and the Cullens decided that they wanted something new. Carlisle wasn't comfortable taking his family to Europe or Asia and putting them that much closer to the Volturi. Staying in America meant that there was an ocean between them, and that was something that Carlisle liked. So instead of staying in the Colonies, they packed up their wagon and headed out west.

"Momma, are we there yet?" Emmett asked from his spot by his sister. They were laid out over the floor in the back of the wagon, toys and books between them, and both of them looked incredibly bored. Annabelle giggled from her spot beside her husband and stood, nodding to him as he gave her a look, and she very carefully maneuvered into the back so she could sit next to her children. Emmett grinned and quickly climbed onto her lap, wrapping his arms around her neck.

Smiling at her son adoringly, she pressed a kiss to his mop of curly black hair—something else the children had inherited from her, while the rest of their features resembled Carlisle more—and hugged him tightly. He cuddled against her there as her fingers replaced her lips in his hair.

"We have another one hundred miles, Em," Alice told her brother without looking up.

Annabelle chuckled as Emmett glowered at his twin. "I was not asking _you_ ," he snapped.

"Emmett," Annabelle warned and the boy at least had the decency to look scolded.

"Sorry, Momma," the toddler murmured.

"I know, Baby Boy," Annabelle said. "But she is right, you know. One hundred more miles. Your father wants to stop on the way through at a waterfall." Carlisle had seen it before they met during one of his trips further into the continent while he tried to get his hunger under control. Lucky for them, even if he didn't have his self-control, the children smelled like her and not a human. Not that there was any chance of that happening since she wasn't human, but she worried because they were still part Immortal so there was a chance other vampires could take their blood. It was one reason why they were wanting to move away from any civilization; most other vampires stuck to towns and villages for food. Carlisle was the only vampire—full vampire, that is—that drank animal blood. And Annabelle was always so proud of him.

"Waterfall?" Emmett said, his little nose scrunching up. "I would rather go find a grizzly bear."

She heard Carlisle bark out a laugh before her cerulean eyes blazed at him and he wisely went quiet. _Sometimes it is still hard to believe they are only a year old,_ she thought wryly. They spoke as well as any adult, and Annabelle was going to work on their schooling soon. They were very small still—Alice more so than Emmett—and that was the only thing that gave away their true age. Rarely were they around humans, but the times they were, they knew to act like _"normal"_ children rather than as advanced as they were. But Annabelle was ever so proud of her children and was glad when they acted like it, like these cuddles Emmett was bestowing upon her. She loved them more than her own breath.

 _My three loves,_ she thought wondrously as she glanced between the babies and then her husband.

"Maybe after," she promised, though she frowned. She knew Emmett was itching for Carlisle to teach him hunting, but Annabelle insisted he was still too little and resisted letting Carlisle take either of them. She was glad he could bring home what they needed and she could cook them what they liked. And she did understand eventually they would be hunting with their father, even by themselves, but she would have to work up to that point. She wasn't ready for them to be so big yet.

Emmett sighed, but a moment later, his attention was given back to his sister as she beckoned him closer to help her set up some blocks. Her focus was so intense that Annabelle knew her daughter was up to something more than just playing. Annabelle sat back, leaning against a couple of the boxes that held their clothes, while she watched them work. Alice directed Emmett where he needed to place things and, to her shock, the boy listened. Usually he did the exact opposite of what his sister told him to do just to anger her. But the raven-haired boy played along quietly and soon a rather nice looking, two-story cabin was built between the two. Alice sat back, satisfied as she looked over the structure made out of little log-like blocks that Carlisle had whittled for them. They took painstaking work, but seeing as he was both a doctor and a vampire, the large box of them took him merely two hours.

Annabelle moved closer to inspect her children's work and nodded, impressed. "That is beautiful, you two," she said with a pleased smile, kissing Emmett's forehead and the spikes of Alice's soft raven hair.

"It is our new home," Alice said with a wide smile. The look in those cerulean-gold eyes told Annabelle that the small girl had seen this in her visions. An eyebrow raised as she looked it over, and slowly she could begin to see it take form. The front door could be shrouded by a large front porch that Annabelle could sit on as she let the children run around on the front yard. Bushes could block the front floor windows, though they were still large and open enough to let in much air. The backdoor could lead out onto an even larger backyard, which would be right on the bed of a lake so when the weather was nice, they could all go swimming. There had been a small pond back at their old home, but nothing that would be useful once the children grew. Downstairs would have a large kitchen, an open living room with a grand fireplace, and a room to the back where Carlisle could keep his medical equipment. Upstairs would have at least three bedrooms—though she knew the twins hated being apart and would stay together as long as time allowed it; once they got older, it would be better for them to be apart—and perhaps a guest room, though they didn't think they would need it much, along with a room for washing. There would be a basement that they could store things, and a small barn a half mile away for their animals.

They didn't have any definite plans before, but seeing the little girl's rendering from her visions had a large smile lifting the corner of Annabelle's lips as it came to life in her head. The girl's eyes unfocused for a moment before she looked at her mother and nodded excitedly.

"Pretty, Momma!" she exclaimed, jumping up to throw herself into Annabelle's arms, nuzzling quietly. Emmett frowned and did the same, making the mother laugh. Her Baby Boy was always the jealous type with attention. He never hurt his sister or used his words, but always needed a hug when Alice did, or a kiss when Alice stole one. It was part of being a momma's boy, and Annabelle wasn't about to fault him for it. Frankly, she loved it, and she knew Alice was the exact same way with Carlisle if the situation were reversed with him.

She patted her children's backs and she chuckled. "I am glad you think so, sweetheart."

Carlisle glanced back at them and smiled when he saw his wife and children in an embrace before his eyes flickered to the small building.

"I think that will be very easy to do," he said.

Carlisle would be building most of it, but would definitely have Emmett's help. Annabelle and Alice would help as much as they could, but they would be spending a lot of time making sure they had a tent set up for shelter and making sure that there was food on the table. They already planned to send Carlisle out on a quick hunt once they got there so that he didn't have to leave them again until the house was built and secure. They had no idea who or what was in that part of the territory as it still belonged to the French, but they had every plans to keep out of the hair of the Natives that lived there. Carlisle was highly against taking the land of those that had lived there for centuries, and Annabelle had a feeling that was one reason he liked the idea of leaving the Colonies; they were taken from the Natives without any conscience and that didn't sit well with the century-old vampire. It gave Annabelle another reason to love her husband; he had a big heart and the highest of compassion for everyone around him. She knew that's why he worked so hard to become immune to the smell of human blood; he didn't want to hurt anyone, it would kill him if he did.

Alice's eyes had lightened at his words and she pulled from her mother's embrace, running to the front as Annabelle shouted, "Alice!" from the back in a panicked voice. Carlisle easily caught their daughter and sighed.

"No running in the wagon, sweetheart," he scolded gently before pulling the tiny girl onto his lap. She pouted, but nodded and curled up there, taking the reins from him to drive the horses on.

"I hear the waterfall, Father," Alice said, perking up a little and little Emmett scowled.

"I hope there is a grizzly bear there," he mumbled. Annabelle sighed. That was his favorite and she knew once he was grown and able to hunt for himself, that would be his prey of choice; the young mother wasn't all too thrilled about that notion, but it wasn't like she had much of a choice.

"You three will be able to eat once you get to our new home," Annabelle reasoned to her son. "There is still some fish left over from our last stop."

Emmett mumbled, but nodded and Annabelle smiled. She set him off to the side so she could move over to the ice chest, but the boy stuck close to her side as she looked for the fish cooked in butter, some mostly-fresh baked bread, and some steamed rice. Some of the stuff they had baked before they left their last home, but most of it was cooked on their last stop, which was by a small creak that had salmon in it. The plates were all packed away so she grabbed the lid of a pan and placed everything she got out for her son on it and handed it over to him. He dug in immediately, pressed against her side, and glared at her when she stole a small piece.

"My apologies," she said with a grin and a wink, and instead grabbed her own piece of bread to snack on while Emmett ate up. Soon enough, as usual, Alice got hungry as well and Annabelle used the lid that Emmett had finished with to make up some for her daughter, who ate in Carlisle's lap. As usual, both kids got sleepy and drifted off right after Annabelle took their plate away. She carefully took Alice from Carlisle's lap and wrapped her up in some blankets next to Emmett before she took her spot back next to her husband with a small huff. Carlisle chuckled and lifted an arm around her shoulders and she quickly cuddled into his side, grinning up at him a bit tired herself. Usually when the kids slept, she did.

As half-vampires, the twins normally didn't sleep as much as Annabelle. In the beginning they slept like human babies, but as they grew, they got better at sleeping through the night, but their nights were slowly getting shorter and shorter. These days it was roughly five to six hours and, though Carlisle said he could take care of them while she slept, she usually woke up when they did. It was just instinct; she had to be there with her children, even if she was a bit more tired than she was before she had them. She had remembered her mother once muttering to her father when she was little that she missed it before Annabelle was born because she could sleep more. And Henry and Gwendolyn even had more time together before Annabelle was born. Annabelle and Carlisle only got five years with just the two of them, but never did she regret it, not one little bit. After all, who could regret a miracle?

"You should sleep, too, Anna," Carlisle said as he eased the wagon over a bump and then prodded the horses to trot faster. "We shall be at the waterfall very soon."

Annabelle shook her head. "They are asleep. This means I get time with you." She paused. "Even if you are driving." They both laughed together and he turned his head to press a kiss to her lips, longer than the ones they had been able to share in the past year or so. "Plus, it is so beautiful through here. Back there the canvas takes away the scenery."

"It sure does," he said, but his eyes were locked on her. He winked as she realized what he meant and blushed, shaking her head as she stole another kiss from his lips, only it was interrupted as she yawned. She giggled as he scoffed and he pulled back, his eyes playfully scolding. "Sleep." It was a command, but a soft one and she sighed.

"Alright, alright, I shall sleep. Promise me to wake me if I do not when the kids wake."

Carlisle didn't look like he was going to agree, but finally he nodded. Annabelle took another kiss before she moved away again, back to where the kids were laying together. The mother yawned and grabbed another quilt—the one she and Carlisle had managed to sneak back in her house for before they left Virginia—and wrapped it around herself, her arms finding the twins and pulling them close. They both curled into her and she fell asleep soon after, not realizing how tired she was, and not realizing there was a pair of loving topaz eyes on her as she drifted off.

* * *

Carlisle kept his word and woke her up when they got to the waterfall. The vampire definitely looked like he regretted that, but the kids were jumping around and he soon forgot about those feelings as he grinned and helped his wife and children down off the wagon. Immediately Alice took her brother's arm and tugged him towards the water. Emmett looked a bit begrudging, but he soon let it go and followed his sister excitedly.

"Slow down!" Annabelle called as Carlisle's arm wrapped around her waist and she settled against his shoulder with a smile. "Please do not go near the water until we join you!"

"Hurry, Momma!" Alice called as Emmett didn't listen and jumped in the shallow part of the small lake beneath the waterfall.

A moment later Carlisle was over there having blurred to reach him, plucking the wiggling boy out with a frown.

"What did your mother say?" he scolded easily before setting the now grumpy boy on a boulder next to his sister, who stared at him with an _"I told you so"_ look on her face, small hands on her hips.

Annabelle shook her head and quickly joined her family, spreading the quilt over the boulder and sitting down upon it. Alice quickly clambered on and shucked off her shoes and socks, leaving her in just her dress. She hiked up her skirts and bounced on her little feet, giving her parents a begging pout.

"Can we go in the water _now_?" she pressed.

"You and your father can," Annabelle said, giving Emmett the eye and watching as he wrapped his arms around his chest in a deeper pout. "Emmett is in time out for ten minutes because he did not listen." Alice gave him another _"I told you so"_ look before taking Carlisle's hand and allowing him to lead her into the water. The bottom of her skirt got soaked and Annabelle sighed, knowing she would have to change her, but it was the least of her worries. The area seemed pretty peaceful and, much to her son's chagrin, there were no signs of any wildlife around other than the fish hoping around the base of the waterfall and the birds singing in the sky.

By the end of the five minutes, Emmett was practically levitating and so Annabelle sighed and let him go early, watching as Carlisle turned as he heard the splashing. Emmett eagerly sat with his sister in the water, neither child caring about their clothes being wet, catching small fish and letting them go. They decided to also try to skip rocks, and when that got boring, Alice closed her eyes as Emmett splashed away and she tried to find him as she walked around the water. Of course she found him rather quickly and Annabelle had a feeling that wasn't a completely fair game as they had the vampiric hearing like their father, but also because Alice could see where he went as soon as he decided. Emmett clearly noticed that and so he took his turn, taking much longer to find her, and then decided he didn't like that game.

They stayed there long enough the sun was almost down and so they just camped there for the night, Carlisle building up a fire to cook some of the fish while the kids laid under the stars and eventually fell asleep together in the quilt. Annabelle wasn't tired enough to sleep, so she and Carlisle lay a little bit away from therm, staring up at the stars themselves and just silently being together, stealing kisses now and then until Annabelle fell off into a deep sleep herself.

* * *

**-Six Months Later, December 1782-**

Carlisle had managed to keep them out of lands of the Natives that lived in the area. They identified as the Sioux, more specifically the Yankton tribe, and lived along the river. While the Cullens had decided to live along the water, they happily kept away from the river and instead found a small lake just west of there that the Yanktons had told them wasn't occupied by any of the Sioux tribes. They seemed to notice there was something different about the family, but when Carlisle saved the chief's son from drowning, they welcomed the family into their area. They even helped Carlisle build the house that Annabelle and Alice saw, and it got done in half the time than if Carlisle had done it by himself. Emmett, of course, helped out and the Natives gave them some temporary shelter during the time that it took to complete. They didn't understand each other's languages, but it was easy enough to catch on once they started speaking more. Annabelle befriended a woman named Maka who had just had a child—a daughter of her own named Chumani—and Annabelle passed down some of Alice's old clothing to her.

The other Sioux tribes were a bit more suspicious and wary of the Cullens than the Yankton tribe, but they decided that since the family was closest to the Yankton land, that it would be of their decision to make on what to do with them. Since none of them had any ill-will towards the Cullens, the family was able to stay there. Carlisle even leant the wagon and horses to the chief in thanks of their support so they could work on some extra trades with further away tribes as well as stock up on some extras like wood and animal pelts. Carlisle actually helped with that, not letting them know exactly what he needed the blood for and they luckily didn't ask.

Once the house was complete, Annabelle cooked up a big meal for them in thanks, and after that they nicely traded back and forth for goods and services that they both needed. Annabelle would cook and sew and become a babysitter while Carlisle worked alongside their elder medicine man, teaching him of some natural ways to cure different things, and what to look out for. Emmett and Alice hid for just a little while, but soon the Natives noticed their differences, and simply thought their growth was stunted. That was the only explanation that Annabelle was willing to give and so she agreed to it.

Once the winter hit, Annabelle made sure the Natives had enough food and blankets to last them the whole season, along with making sure that their family had enough. Annabelle herself was really the only one that got cold as the kids were starting to take after their father in that respect, but that didn't stop her from bundling them up unnecessarily just for a mother's peace of mind. The lake behind them was frozen, but that was the least on her mind considering it was now approaching the second birthday of her twins. While she couldn't give Emmett exactly what he wanted—his own hunting trip—she did have Carlisle run out to find a grizzly and bring back the blood. Alice's favorite was moose and so she got that. Annabelle made up a chocolate cake with **Happy Second Birthday, Emmett and Alice!** written on it along with some fresh, buttery salmon for dinner.

They were down for a nap when the parents got it all together, and so when they woke up, they were pleasantly surprised. Sitting around the fireplace together, they sipped on their special drinks as they opened their gifts, one each. Emmett got a grizzly bear claw on a necklace, and Alice got a book of poetry. Both of them were ecstatic and jumping around with thank yous, and Annabelle would never get tired of seeing those smiles. Emmett ran to put the necklace on and Alice sat down between her parents with a happy sigh.

"I think Jasper will like these stories," she whispered, soft enough the couple wasn't sure if they were meant to hear, but they both frowned over her head to each other nonetheless.

"Who is Jasper, sweetheart?" Annabelle wondered, fingers falling into the girl's ringlets that she was insisting on cutting off short and spiky, but Annabelle hadn't given in yet.

Alice looked up at her, her cerulean-gold eyes dancing with secretive delight. "Oh, he has not been born yet, Momma. But he will be someday. And soon after, I will find him." She nodded and looked back to her book, the subject closed. Carlisle looked as worried as Annabelle, but really, what could you say to a two-year-old who saw the future? Clearly he was going to be real someday—after all, her other visions had all come true—and they would just have to be patient for when that arrived. Carlisle just shook his head a little, reaching over to tenderly brush some of Annabelle's escaped tendrils of hair over her ear causing her to smile at him adoringly, and together they sat, their daughter between them and their son playing with the whittled blocks on the floor, and neither Cullen could be happier.

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to say I'm aware I used the American Revolution as a meeting point for Carlisle and Abigail in Second Chance at Forever, but it just seems like a good place to start as it's far in the past, but not too far, and it would give Carlisle an excuse to be in America. 
> 
> Outfits for chapter one:  
> \- [Woods](http://www.polyvore.com/annabelle_chapter_one_for_all/set?id=220258745)  
> (These will mostly be Annabelle, but if I feel inspired for any others, I'll post those as well.)
> 
> Anyway, thanks again for reading! Comments are love!


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